


Today is the day, that I love you

by lu_woo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mpreg mentioned, Romance, doyoung works at hot topic, side JohnJae - Freeform, this is set in America, we love a good emo boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lu_woo/pseuds/lu_woo
Summary: Doyoung figures he should be over Jungwoo by now. It’s been three years and he’s almost positive that he’s been long forgotten. (If not him, then at least the feelings they shared.) Sure, they were only together for a little over a year, but Doyoung’s never fallen so fucking hard on his face into love before. He’s never met someone like Jungwoo. He was so funny, smart, handsome, cute, sweet, thoughtful, literally everything Doyoung needed. Even now, just thinking about him has Doyoung’s cheeks flushing a bright pink.And Doyoung was really going to have to go to this fucking baby shower and see KimfuckingJungwoo; the absolute love of his life.





	Today is the day, that I love you

**Author's Note:**

> { uwuwuwuwu hello friends!! }  
> { this fic is for dowooweek!!!!!! please give it lots of support and love! }  
> { i absolutely adore this fic and it's by far my favorite one that i've written about the two so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!!!}  
> { also a huge huge huge HUGE thanks to my lovely beta [gotbtx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotbtx) who put so much work into helping me! }

 

Doyoung’s nose scrunches up as he stares at the invitation in his hand. It’s thick, probably cardstock, and there’s little heart stickers that are slightly elevated on the card, giving it a fancy, three dimensional look that screams too much free time. _And why pink?_ Doyoung gripes to himself. It’s not even a _good_ shade of pink, tackier than it is pretty.

He sighs, resting the card against the marble of his kitchen counter, and no, Doyoung does _not_ like what this entails. A huff pushes past his lips as he finds himself peering down at the big _You’re invited!_ that’s been staring at him with all its glittery, obnoxious glory.

The invitation has been sitting on his kitchen table for about three days now, the envelope opened but the contents remaining virtually untouched. The name on the return address is what’s kept him from pulling the card out and reading it. Even now, with disgusting pink color scheme weighing heavy on his eyes, Doyoung still hasn’t bothered to see what it says. To be honest, he doesn’t even care what it’s about. Whatever it is, it’ll be another thing he has to go to. Another stupid get together that makes him feel like he’s got to make up some fancy story about his life. Something he’s got to dress _nice_ for, and unfortunately, Doyoung’s idea of nice isn’t exactly what most people would go for. It would be just another stupid get together and Doyoung really hates socializing.  He blinks, puffing out his cheeks as he picks the card up again, holding it close enough to read the small text without his glasses.

  _Join us for our baby shower!_

Doyoung’s eyes narrow slowly, scanning the rest of the card. The whole design has Johnny’s name written all over it. There’s no way it was Jaehyun’s doing, the boy couldn’t design anything for his life. Johnny on the other hand, enjoyed doing all sorts of papercrafts. Birthday cards, Christmas cards, all types of cards. Doyoung remembers he even made the invitations to their school’s summer bash once. Actually, Doyoung’s pretty sure he still has that little card hanging up on one of his bulletin boards that are littered with old memories.

It’s soon. Exactly two days away from today he realizes,  and then scoffs. _Why would they give such short notice on something as important as that?_ he scolds. Doyoung would have to buy a gift and a card, not to mention it’s on a weekday and he’ll have to make sure his shift is covered and--

He _really_ didn’t want to go.

Doyoung exhales tiredly, fingers rubbing at his forehead. He knows it’d be worse for his migraines if he didn’t go, rather than if he did. He would never, never ever, hear the end of it if he didn’t at least drop by and say hey. Looking over the wretched color scheme again, he makes a wild guess that they’re having a girl as well.

There’s more than one reason for this, the biggest one being Doyoung hasn’t done anything significant with his life since graduating college. His biggest “accomplishment” was becoming the manager of Hot Topic in the local mall--and Doyoung guesses getting three tattoos kind of count, too. The point is he isn’t like his friends that sent the invitation. They’ve gotten married, settled down and bought a house, and now are having a baby. They’ve _done_ something with their lives, made something for themselves--meanwhile, Doyoung’s bragging rights extend to tattoos and working at the “emo kid store.” Not to mention at least one person will inevitably bring up how he has yet to do something with his degree.

The second reason, and probably Doyoung’s favorite excuse to hand out, is that he’s not particularly fond of party settings, particularly ones where there’s a shortage in alcohol and surplus in stupid, corny pregnancy games that already have Doyoung gagging. 

Then there’s the last, most important reason, which also happens to be a person: Kim _mother fucking_ Jungwoo. Doyoung’s chest tightens at the mere thought of the name, but it tightens even more knowing there was no possible way Jungwoo would not be there. 

He was one of their best friends as well. They all went to college together, even played together on the same soccer team. (Well, Doyoung quit after the first season, but he was on it once.) The four of them were inseparable, Jungwoo and Doyoung even moreso, always tied at the hip and hands on each other in some way. It was sophomore year when they got together. Jungwoo had shoved his way in Doyoung’s messy dorm, popcorn in hand and movie tucked under his chin. _This is a date,_ he’d said, fingers shoving pieces of popcorn in his mouth. _I like you._ It was blunt, and had Doyoung’s face turning red and his mouth falling open, but it was _so_ Jungwoo. Such a _Jungwoo_ thing to make Doyoung’s heart flip and his stomach drop out of his body with the simplest of words. The boy never had a single problem with letting Doyoung know what he wanted.

Everything went well, _amazingly_ well, for the next year, and it was safe to say Doyoung had fallen in love. Jungwoo was his everything. They were together every morning, waking up to each other’s sleepy faces. They walked to class together, Doyoung even walking all the way across campus to see Jungwoo off. Evenings would be spent curled up in front of the small TV Doyoung had resting on a milk crate he found in the middle of some alleyway one night. They would do everything together, even things that technically should be done alone. Both of them just couldn’t get enough of each other and it was a hundred percent okay.

Then their senior year happened. Jungwoo had picked up more classes for his major. He’d taken up another sport to play. And tutoring and choir. Then, Doyoung found himself alone the majority of the first semester. Soon it was no longer Jungwoo and Doyoung, just _Doyoung_ himself. Even when he was the one left behind, Doyoung couldn't bring himself to the obvious solution, didn't _want_ to. It had been Jungwoo who asked Doyoung to meet up. They were outside, both seated on a bench in the cold autumn air, and the familiarity of it was overridden by the tension growing between them. The words that came out of Jungwoo’s mouth should have been expected, Doyoung _should_ have seen them coming. And somewhere deep in his mind, they were, Doyoung knew, but he also knew his heart would never have been prepared for what Jungwoo said.

 _We should break up._ It was so Jungwoo to say it as bluntly as he did.

Doyoung figures he should be over Jungwoo by now. It’s been three years and he’s almost positive that he’s been long forgotten. (If not him, then at least the feelings they shared.) Sure, they were only together for a little over a year, but Doyoung’s never fallen so fucking hard on his face into love before. He’s never met someone like Jungwoo. He was so funny, smart, handsome, cute, sweet, thoughtful, literally everything Doyoung needed. Even now, just thinking about him has Doyoung’s cheeks flushing a bright pink.

With yet another sigh, Doyoung slaps the card down on the counter. _Fuck_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What do you even buy for baby showers? Like, I have absolutely _no_ knowledge on babies whatsoever.” Doyoung puffs his cheeks out, fingers gripping his phone tightly. He’s been wandering around the department store for about an hour now, pacing back and forth through the baby section. “Like, do I get a toy or something? What if the baby doesn’t even like it? Then I just look like an asshole.” Doyoung’s nose scrunches up as he squeezes a bunny plushie that squeaks, practically like a dog toy. 

“Doyoung,” Taeil says with a laugh. “You’re really over thinking this. All babies do is eat, sleep, and poop. Find something to help with those, and you’ll be fine.”

He definitely is overthinking this way too much. Doyoung’s never thought about anything this much in his life and it shows through the way he runs his hand through his hair, tugging on it as he stares at the different play mats for the hundredth time. “Why can’t you hang out with me again?” he says in a sigh, hand squeezing at one of the blanket samples they have hanging from a rack. “It would really save me from this. You could make some excuse about me having to do new training or something. _Anything_.”

“I told you, I’m not going to even be in the country. I have that annual business trip.”

“Take me with you,” Doyoung whines, foot stomping a little too loudly and he glares at the child who’s stopped to stare at him with wide eyes. “You can just shove me in your suitcase and--” 

“Doyoung,” the boy says firmly. “You’ll be fine. I’m hanging up.”

“Taeil!” There’s a click on the other line before Doyoung can say anything else. He purses his lips out, hand pulling the phone away to angrily text the boy a string of curse words. Doyoung should really care about how he’s currently giving Taeil a piece of his mind, his very angry mind, but he _doesn’t_. Not in the slightest. In fact, Doyoung lets out a happy sigh, one accompanied by a grin as he shoves his phone in his pocket.

His hands grab at the blanket he just had his hand on, pulling it out from the shelf. It’s a _terrible_ pink color with a heart pattern on the other side. Fitting. It practically matches the card that’s still sitting on his kitchen counter and Doyoung wonders if they got the idea for the design from the blanket. With a sigh, he holds the blanket up to his chest. At least it’s soft. If they don’t want it, Doyoung would be happy to take it for himself. (Secretly, of course, because pink doesn’t really suit his naturally dark clothing.)

This is stupid. He shouldn’t even be going to the party. But Jaehyun’s already texted him, asking him with that emoji with heart eyes if he’s coming. Originally, he had said out _no_ , typed out that he had some meeting with the other Hot Topic store managers in the area. Then it changed to him being sick. Mostly because on the very, _very_ , odd chance that someone he knew happened to wander into his store, which made no sense at all really because none of the people he knows would ever dare to step foot into Hot Topic, they would see him there, perfectly fine\\.   _Then_ to how he had to go see his mom because she misses him. But in the end, Johnny’s whiny, dramatic voice popped into his head and Doyoung puffed his cheeks out, typing back a rather cheerful _I’ll be there!_  

And he doesn’t _mind_ Johnny or Jaehyun. He’s much closer with Jaehyun, though he still forgets to text him back for days at a time, always giving him that _sorry I was busy_ excuse that no one ever believed. It’s not like Jaehyun has much time to spare anyways. Jaehyun definitely didn’t want to hang out with Doyoung, get drunk, and eat pizza and play games until four am. Well, maybe he _did_ but it’s not like he _could_. Not with a pregnant Johnny and his own problems to worry about.

Doyoung just really, really, _really_ doesn’t want to see Jungwoo and he knows for a _fact_ that he’s going to be there. He’s being a baby about it, he knows, knows he should just suck it up and act like the twenty-eight year old he is. But Jungwoo is his one and only weakness (besides that claw machine with the stuffed bunny collection). It’s not like anyone knows about that though, but unfortunately, his weakness for Jungwoo would become instantly obvious the second they come in contact. It’s not necessarily a secret because plenty of people surely fall under Jungwoo’s spell when they come into contact with him. It’s the fact that even after all this time, the thought of Jungwoo makes his poor dark heart flutter. That’s what he’s afraid of: scared he’s going to see him again, in person not just through instagram, and fall in love all over again.

“Excuse me, do you need help?”

Doyoung blinks, not realizing he’s been standing in the aisle, arms wrapped tightly around the blanket and eyes staring at the floor. He narrows his eyes, brows furrowing as he puffs his cheeks out, stomping away without answering the nice worker. The answer is yes though, he _does_ need help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The clock couldn’t move any fucking slower. Doyoung leans against the counter, cheek in his palm and elbow resting against the sticker covered surface. He feels like he’s been here for at least nine hours but it’s only been nine minutes. He’s overreacting, probably, it’s a common thing for him to do. It’s just so hard not to when there’s so much to think about. That stupid party. Stupid Johnny and Jaehyun. Stupid Jungwoo. 

“Hey,” Sicheng looks at him, head tilting as he waves his hand in front of Doyoung’s face. “Are you alive?”

Doyoung grabs Sicheng’s hand, squeezing it a little too tightly and the smaller boy’s face contorts in pain. “Does it look like it?”

Sicheng whines, rubbing at his hand when Doyoung lets go of it. “I was just asking! The only thing you’ve done since you got here is stare at the Harry Potter display.”

Right, he has been doing that. Mostly because he wishes he could use that invisibility cloak or whatever the hell it’s called to hide away for the next month. Or maybe use the polyjuice potion and turn into someone completely different so no one could recognize him anymore. _So many possibilities._

“Can you kill me?” Doyoung says, body going back to leaning over the counter, hands patting his face.

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Sicheng sighs, fingers pushing through the bucket of random pins next to the register. “But if you’re really feeling like that then maybe you should take some time-”

“It’s a joke,” he spits out, hands hitting against the counter. “But you _could_ help me.”

He watches as Sicheng’s mouth opens, head beginning to shake as he clicks his tongue. “Oh no. No, no no. Doyoung, last time you asked for my help, I ended up stranded in the middle of a club. No phone, no way home, no money.” The boy begins walking away, still shaking his head. “I’m not helping you with anything.”

“Sicheng!” Doyoung _whines_. It’s so loud that the group of girls that’s been hiding in the back since he’s been here, start to giggle and Doyoung’s pretty sure he glares at them as he moves out from behind the register.

“No!” The boy grabs one of the fake swords they have displayed ( _thanks, Halloween time_ ). “I’m seriously not helping you, Doyoung. Whatever it is, you can do it yourself.” The sword gently pokes Doyoung in the stomach and Sicheng’s eyes glare at him. “Especially because you haven’t even apologized for leaving me like that.” 

“What was I supposed to do?” Doyoung hisses, grabbing the sword and tossing it back onto the display, leaning in closer to the shorter boy. “I haven’t gotten dick in so long and I wasn’t going to pass it up.”

Sicheng groans, hands shoving at Doyoung’s chest. “Gross,” he sighs, hand running through his hair. “Can you go ring them up, please? We can talk about whatever your problem is later.”

Later, apparently, is going to mean after his shift because Doyoung _actually_ has to work, unlike Sicheng. The rest of his time is spent up on the ladder, putting up a new display of more stereotypical Halloween costumes. More of those stupid crop top school girl tops and slutty character outfits with suspenders. Halloween is one of Doyoung’s favorite holidays and he wants to say that he dislikes all the sexualized normal characters. But he’s found himself at a party dressed the same way more than once. Especially last year when he went as a bunny, (stockings, bodysuit, ears, tail, all of it). So he guesses he doesn’t have any room to complain.

“It’s all crooked.” Doyoung tilts his head, arms still above it, slightly shaking as he holds onto a handful of outfits. Yuta is staring at him, piercings glimmering in the light. He’s got his hands on his hips, lips pursed into a pout as he sighs.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he grumbles, turning back to the wall. He stands on his tippy toes, ladder slightly shaking as he slides the hangers on the hook. “I don’t see you up here doing it.”

Yuta clicks his tongue and Doyoung feels the ladder shake under him. Turning around quickly, he watches as Yuta kicks it again. “I _just_ got here.” The boy huffs, walking over to the register, fingers tapping away at it quickly. “Besides, _you’re_ the manager. This stuff is _your_ job.”

The other is right, Doyoung _is_ the manager, but today, he doesn’t feel like doing anything. If it wasn’t for the slightly aggressive email he received this morning telling him that he’s behind on the current displays, he’d still be sulking behind the counter, whining at Sicheng. It’s not that Doyoung doesn’t enjoy his job. He does, a lot. Enjoys getting to wear his black ensemble, chains, dangly earrings, and heavy boots that make him feel like a vampire hunter. The work was rather easy too. Thankfully he’s got a group of employees that actually know what they’re doing so he doesn’t have to watch over them like he’s running a babysitting service rather than managing a store.

Yuta is the assistant manager, directly under Doyoung. The boy knew what he was doing and the customers loved him (and Doyoung loved the way Yuta smiles at them as he shoves product into their hands, effortlessly getting them to buy way more than they intend to), easily making his way up in a short time. He was so good, in fact, that he convinced a certain customer to become an employee.

Sicheng isn’t new anymore, it’s been about a year since he joined them, but sometimes he _acts_ like it’s his first day. (Though, Doyoung’s caught onto the act and how it only ever happens when he’s talking to Yuta.) Then there’s Taeyong, an eager pink haired boy that always gets excited whenever the new anime collection comes in, even more excited than Yuta, who is an anime fanatic. There’s been several times Doyoung’s caught the two huddled against one another in the dressing room, eyes glued to one of their phones, deep in the middle of an episode of whatever they’ve found to watch. 

There’s not many of them but they don’t need a long list of employees. Their store is small and it’s never busy enough to need more than two people working at a time. Though, Doyoung’s just hired another boy, (yes _all_ boys, sue him) for the holiday season. _Haechan? Something like that._ The boy came wandering in, resume in hand and his hand on his hip, and said:

_It’s a little dark in here and you could use some light. That’s why you should hire me. They call me the Full Sun._

Doyoung blinked, watching as the boy held his hands up while one of his friends starting shining the light from his phone on his face. If it wasn’t for Sicheng’s clapping and big smile from across the room, and the fact that Doyoung probably _did_ need another person to help with the holidays, he would have said no. And Haechan, or whatever his name is, isn’t half bad. He’s already finished his training and is possibly even better at customer interaction than Yuta. He’s also _really_ good at letting everyone know he’s arrived for work. (Kind of annoying, but whatever.)

“We’re having a movie marathon tomorrow night, wanna come?” Yuta says, hands busy quickly placing bills on the counter, mouth moving slowly as he counts. “It’s just me and Sicheng, and we rented a bunch of movies.”

Normally, Doyoung wouldn’t want to hang out with them--well, not both of them together. It always got a little weird, like he ends up alone on their couch while they fuck in the next room kind of weird, but for once, it sounds good; _way_ better than going to the baby shower tomorrow. Doyoung parts his lips, fingers curling against the counter before huffing slowly. “I can’t. I have to go to a baby shower.” The look on Yuta’s face makes Doyoung groan, holding his hands up quickly. “I know, I know. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Since when do you go to baby showers? They’re full of _baby_ stuff. You don’t like any of that.  Since when do you even have a friend that’s _pregnant_?”

Doyoung leans against the counter, letting his cheek press against it, not caring how dirty it probably is--which it shouldn’t actually be, because it’s one of the tasks that needs to be done every three hours. It’s not really a store rule, but it’s _Doyoung’s_ rule because he _hates_ when things are dirty. “He’s from college. I’m better friends with his husband, but I guess they’re a package deal now.”

Yuta hums, puffing his cheeks out as he shoves the large stack of bills into one of those thick envelopes from the bank. “Well if you need an excuse to leave early, you know where to find us.” The boy hands the envelope to Doyoung, not before tapping him on the  head with it gently. “Just make sure to text me before you come over, though.”

Doyoung scrunches his nose up, grabbing the envelope and tucking it under his arm. “Gross.” Yuta doesn’t say anything, just shrugs his shoulders and grabs a pen, checking off the extensive list of things that need to be done. “I’m leaving. Call me if you need anything.”

The other says something but it’s too quiet for him to actually hear what he says. He assumes it’s something along the lines of, _not like you did anything today anyways_ or _I can run the store better than you,_ all of which is a joke, but it’s something that Yuta has said more than once. At least it better be or Doyoung won’t hesitate to move Sicheng into his spot instead. Which would be kind of fun to watch and it has Doyoung laughing on his way out, making Sicheng tilt his head at him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You can do this. You can do this.” Doyoung sucks in a breath, fingers gripping the bag in his left hand. It’s heavy and he really should have just gotten that stupid rattle toy he saw instead of a heavy blanket. “You only have to stay for like ten minutes. Fifteen max.”

It’s already been a pain and he hasn’t even gotten inside yet. There’s too many cars and Doyoung had to park three houses down. Three. And he just got new boots that he hasn’t broke in yet. Then there’s the obnoxious amount of pink balloons that are swinging around in the wind, threatening to hit Doyoung as he walks up to the front door. Has he mention that pink is his least favorite color?

Inside isn’t any better, in fact it's _worse_ . Three kids almost bump into him the second he walks in the door. _Great_. In a quick glance around the room, he realizes that they’re all unfamiliar faces. It must be people from their work, or maybe even those odd birthing classes that Jaehyun mentioned he had to go to. Doyoung shivers, practically gagging at the thought.

 _No sign of Jungwoo_ , Doyoung notes (which is a _very_ good thing). All he has to do now is go set his present down, say hi to both Jaehyun and Johnny, maybe eat some food, then leave. That’s it.

Step one is done easily. The present table is rather obvious and Doyoung quickly shoves the sparkly,(it was the only pink one they had and there was no way he was getting away with a black one) bag down, shoving it between two other presents. But now he’s got _sparkles_ all over his thigh and the more he tries to rub it off, the more he gets on his hand, and then it might get on his face and--

“Doyoung!”

He looks up, eyes wide, hand still on his thigh as Jaehyun smiles at him brightly, dimples sinking in deep. Doyoung sighs, actually relieved that it’s Jaehyun. Perfect, step two was already in the works.

“Hey,” he says, lips curling into a smile because he genuinely _does_ miss the boy. They’ve just been so busy, (well, _Jaehyun’s_ really been the busy one) so their hangouts have become practically nonexistent. Doyoung can’t say he doesn’t miss the late nights they used to have when they finally graduated college. Nights and days where they had nothing to do and they could do anything; stay up all night, go out to clubs until dawn, play video games all day and order take out for all meals. Then, it’s like it happened over night. Johnny and Jaehyun getting together, and Doyoung got less and less time with the boy. Now, they see each other in passing, meeting up quickly for coffee in the morning while Johnny still sleeps and neither Jaehyun nor Doyoung have work. It was just--Jaehyun’s growing up, while Doyoung is… still the same.

“Thanks for coming,” Jaehyun breathes out, hand running through hair slowly. “I know this isn’t really your scene, but I appreciate it, and I know Johnny does too.”

Speaking of the boy, he was currently seated in the large, really comfy-looking, chair next to the fireplace. It’s the first time Doyoung’s seen Johnny since he’s become obviously pregnant. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but Johnny is-- _big_ . Not in a weight sort of way (though, his cheeks have definitely gotten round, almost like Jaehyun’s soft ones), but his _stomach_ is big. Doyoung blinks at the boy, head tilting and his lips part.

“Twins,” Jaehyun says, a gentle laugh coming from his lips that sounds a little scared. “Both girls.” Doyoung nods slowly, watching the way Johnny smiles, standing up just slightly to give a hug to someone. “How are you, though?” Doyoung looks back at Jaehyun. “Like, how are you actually?”

If it weren’t for him being at this party, he would be great, absolutely no complaints. Though, now the problem was becoming less the party’s fault and more the paranoia of seeing Jungwoo. “I’m fine. Just the usual stuff.”

This is the time where Doyoung prays that Jaehyun doesn’t start the whole _you have a business degree, shouldn’t you be looking for a real career?_ rant that everyone loves to give him. _Yes_ , Doyoung is very much aware that working at Hot Topic is not an actual career--at least not _yet_. He fully intends on making it to the corporate office, there’s just a few things he’s gotta work out first (like his attitude). He’s going to get there, though. Doyoung’s positive.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re doing well. I worry about you. Especially since we don’t talk as much anymore.”

Jaehyun sounds sad, genuinely sad. There’s even disappointment in his eyes when Doyoung looks at them. He knows what he’s referring to though. One, his lack of true career.  Jaehyun doesn’t even have to say it, his eyes say it all. The way they’re filled with sadness, probably how they look when Jaehyun thinks about how Doyoung is wasting his life away managing a retail store instead of working in an office. Two, every time they do talk or meet up, Doyoung tells him stories of all the nights he spends partying, drinking, and not to mention the questionable drugs, and off putting piercings and tattoos that he likes to show off.

“I think you have bigger things to worry about than me,” Doyoung laughs, trying to ignore the bitter taste on his tongue, head nodding towards Johnny who’s currently trying to stand up. There’s a hand waving at him and an eager smile on the other’s lips. Maybe the party wasn’t so bad. Doyoung wasn’t completely miserable and it is nice seeing his old friends again. Sicheng and Yuta can get rather _tiring_.

“I should probably go help him.”

Doyoung smiles, nodding as he runs his hand through his hair after scratching his cheek gently. “Well, let me come, too. I need to actually say hi.”

Johnny is _beaming_ .His skin is glowing, his smile is wide, and his cheeks almost match Jaehyun’s in terms of squishable levels. For an odd reason, Doyoung feels the smallest amount of jealousy running through him. He definitely doesn’t want to be pregnant, but Johnny just looks so _happy_ , and the way he looks at Jaehyun when he wraps his arm around him is something to be desired. Doyoung wishes he had someone to look at him like that.

“It’s really good to see you, Doyoung. You look, um...” Johnny pauses, head tilting as he lets out a laugh. “The same. Is the nose piercing new?” Doyoung blinks, finger coming up to touch at his septum piercing. “Well, I guess it has been a while.” Johnny breathes out, body leaning against Jaehyun’s. “It looks good, though.”

“Thanks,” he replies quietly, eyes watching at the way the two play with each others fingers like high school students in stupid love.

“Oh!” Johnny gasps and for a second Doyoung is actually scared of the sound. His eyes widen and immediately go to Johnny’s face, looking for any kind of pain or discomfort, but there’s none. There’s a big smile on his face and his arm shoots up, waving in the air as he bounces gently on his feet.

It’s a sinking feeling in Doyoung's chest, it travels all the way down to his stomach the more he stares at Johnny’s smile. Then, Jaehyun starts smiling and there’s a figure next to him, and _God_ , it smells like bubblegum all of the sudden. Doyoung shuts his eyes, because that smell is so fucking familiar that it hurts.

Then, it happens. Doyoung looks up because he can’t take looking at Johnny’s lips anymore, or the floor, or anything, because he just wants to look at Jungwoo no matter how many times he tells himself otherwise, and, oh god, he’s still just as beautiful as before. His hair is incredibly soft, a gentle brown color, almost caramel, eyes sparkling and cheeks slightly pink. His smile is so bright and Doyoung can’t even _breathe_. Jungwoo has gotten slightly taller, Doyoung noticing he has to tilt his head up to meet Jungwoo’s eyes.

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo says softly. He bites down on his bottom lip, and Doyoung _really_ needs to leave. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Before he can even respond, Johnny has his arms wrapped around him, hand pulling at Jungwoo’s shoulder to tug them into the most awkward group hug he’s ever experienced. “It’s been so long since all of us have been together!” It doesn’t last long and Doyoung is soon returning to his position a few steps away from the rest of them. 

Jungwoo laughs-- _giggles,_ to be more specific--all while looking straight at Doyoung, eyes right into his soul, which he’s currently putting up for sale. Doyoung can’t even say anything. Doesn’t know how to start. They haven’t seen each other since college, barely even said anything to each other on graduation day, only a gentle nod and the smallest of smiles. Even after three years, Doyoung’s heart still skipped a beat at the sound of Jungwoo’s laugh.

“I have to leave,” Doyoung blurts out, earning a look, one of confusion, from all three of them. He clears his throat, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I promised some work people I’d come over for a movie night. It-It’s _really_ important to them.”

It wasn’t a lie (though, he never actually said to Yuta he would go over to Sicheng’s house and watch movies, but no one needed to know that). Thankfully neither Jaehyun nor Johnny make a fuss and he gets one good hug and one awkward one before slipping away, ignoring Jungwoo completely.

“Don’t look back, don’t look back, Doyoung, _don’t_ look back,” he whispers to himself, eyes on the ground the whole time as he tries not to step on the random kids that are playing on the floor. He feels bad, really, because he wants to go back to Jungwoo, doesn’t like that he just up and left without saying anything to him. What is he _doing?_ He should say something, should ask him how he’s doing--but Doyoung knows that’s not what would come out of his mouth.

He gets out the door and halfway down the sidewalk before he hears his name. Doyoung stops, fingers curling against his side. This is not what he wanted. This is exactly why he didn’t want to come to this stupid party for these _stupid_ twins that aren’t even fucking born yet. He should have never come, should have never even opened the damn envelope with the invitation, should have acted like it got lost in the mail or lied and said he was busy. It could have been so easy to just stay inside all day and do nothing.

“Doyoung, wait.”

Just as always, Jungwoo’s voice is sweet. So sickly sweet, just like the bubblegum scent that Doyoung is convinced is being created by his body. Doyoung doesn’t want to turn around, doesn’t want to see Jungwoo, because that would make it _real_. He should keep walking, straight to his car. Jungwoo can’t contact him, doesn’t know where he works. It could be so easy for him to just keep living his life without him.

“ _Doyoung_.”

The desperation in Jungwoo’s voice is what makes Doyoung turn around. The boy is standing only a meter or two away, the wind blowing his bangs slowly. Doyoung can see that they’re tickling his forehead by the way his nose scrunches up. Jungwoo really hasn’t changed, Doyoung thinks. He still looks nearly the exact same, features have sharped slightly but there’s still the innocence that he radiated back in college.

Jungwoo walks closer, steps careful. He stops when the tips of their feet almost meet. He has one hand on his elbow, thumb rubbing at his own arm slowly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” is all Doyoung manages to say and even that’s barely even there.

Jungwoo bites at his lip again and he sucks in a breath, a deep one that Doyoung watches. Doyoung’s eyes wander down, letting himself look over Jungwoo fully since he’s already given in. The boy isn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. It’s a simple white turtleneck covered by a jean jacket that has a pin that reads ‘ _I love radiology!’_ Right, Jungwoo had a degree in that. Oh, Doyoung thinks to himself, is that what he does now?

“Radiology?” Doyoung blinks, not actually wanting to say it outloud.

Jungwoo’s fingers grab the fabric around the pin, lifting it up slightly before letting it fall back against his chest. “Oh, yeah. I work at the hospital.” Doyoung nods slowly, sucking in a breath and letting it out as his eyes return to Jungwoo’s. There’s another awkward silence, one thankfully not lasting long. “Sorry,” Jungwoo practically whispers, eyes tilting down towards the ground. “I know you’re busy, so--” _God_ , he sounds like he’s about to cry and it’s taking everything in Doyoung to stay where he is. “Is your number still the same?”

Doyoung licks at his lips, parting them slowly before shaking his head. “No, it changed a few months ago.”

Jungwoo looks at him again, sparkle in his eyes almost completely gone now. “Oh,” he pauses before tilting his head. “Um, well my number is still the same, so if you wanna, you know... I normally get off work at six, but I have my lunch break at one.”

Oh. Jungwoo was asking him to text him. That’s what it was. There’s a hundred different things he could say, things he should say, a running theme of the day. But all that comes out is, “Cool.”

It’s awkward, the air between them. It doesn’t help that it’s getting chilly, the sun hidden behind the trees and the wind blowing. Jungwoo wraps his arms around himself, hands holding at his elbows, a signature move he does when he’s cold. Doyoung isn’t really any better. His fingers are playing with the zipper of his leather jacket, listening to the way it makes a sound as he lets it hit against the ring on his finger.

His eyes peer down for one second. But that’s all it takes for Jungwoo to have his fingers on his cheek. It’s just one but it has Doyoung’s eyes widening and his head tilting back up, looking at the boy. “You have glitter,” he mutters, gently pinching the skin as he attempts to pick it off. “I know how much you hate glitter.”

When his cheeks begin to turn pink, not from Jungwoo accidently pinching him trying to get the glitter off his cheek, but from how close Jungwoo is to him, he knows it’s time to go. Again, without saying a word, he turns around and walks straight to his car, hands covering his face and bumping into the mirror of another car before making it to his own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doyoung’s hand reaches up, closing the curtain to the dressing room. He sighs, quickly shoving himself in the corner, body curled up on the bench, hard wall uncomfortably hugging him. Twelve fifty-eight. Doyoung’s hands begin to shake. He sucks in a breath, patting at his forehead a little too hard. Still twelve fifty-eight. Maybe he should just do it now. No, no. He can wait. But then if he waits until exactly one, will it look too desperate? It’ll look like he’s been waiting, which he has, but Jungwoo didn’t need to know that.

Two minutes past one. Doyoung _whines_. “Okay,” he breathes out, sucking in another breath before he lets it out slowly. “Stop freaking out.”

Jungwoo’s name is already pulled up on Doyoung's phone. It still has that stupid paw print emoji next to his name. (It was a heart, but obviously that changed. It felt empty without anything, and Jungwoo was always so eager, like a puppy, so Doyoung went with the obvious choice.) Doyoung wishes he hadn’t gone on a depressive, angry, crying rage of _I have to delete everything that reminds me of you_ for a day and a half. Mostly because, right now, he wishes he could see the conversations they had before. They were always full of hearts and smiles and cute words that would make Doyoung’s dark little heart light up. Instead, it’s completely blank. The background is even plain white, once a picture of them eating ice cream together. For a moment, Doyoung wonders if Jungwoo still has that picture..

Five past One. Doyoung whines _again_ . He really should have thought this out. Well, to be fair, he did. He thought about everything, all the things he could say to the boy and all the possible responses that he would receive. All morning. All last night, and the night before. None of texts he thought about sending sounded good. None of them truly appropriate for their current situation. All of them began with _I still love you,_ ’ or _You’re still really pretty,_ or even _Please take me back._ All things he _shouldn’t_ say.

Doyoung’s eyes shake as they down at his phone, those pawprints and Jungwoo’s name glaring right back at him. Doyoung bites down on his lip, hard, as he hovers his thumb over the keyboard. All he has to do is just say _hey_ or _hi_ , it doesn’t have to be anything crazy. All he needs to do is just--

“Whatcha doin’?”

Doyoung jumps, phone wiggling out of his hands. He scrambles to catch it, only barely grabbing it with his fingertips. His free hand comes up to cover his chest, slumping back against the wall as he stares at Taeyong’s smiling face. His head is tucked between the curtain and the wall, pink hair still looking vibrant in the dim lighting.

“Nothing,” he hisses out, sighing as he runs his hand through his hair. “What are _you_ doing?”

“I was stocking the hair dye when I heard you making some weird noises.” Taeyong’s hands pull the curtain open, immediately going to his hips after. “Wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The boy shrugs, lips pursing out slowly.

 _Okay_ wasn’t exactly the word Doyoung was. He wasn’t _not_ okay, if he was being honest. His mind wasn’t okay but his heart, that was feeling content. Even though he didn’t want to see Jungwoo, didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ him, the lightness in his heart thanked him for going to the party. He’d absolutely never admit that to anyone but himself. Doyoung hates everything about this whole situation, hates how stubborn he’s being, because Jungwoo literally was right there, right there in front of him, and Doyoung still acted stupid. Jungwoo had asked him to text him which--oh, God.

Doyoung looks at his phone, quickly unlocking it. Jungwoo’s name is still up and for a second he thinks he’s good, thinks he didn’t accidently send anything, but then he sees what his fingers ended up typing while he was trying to save his phone from a ruined screen.

  _Hjs6i_

That was it. Doyoung swallows before letting out the loudest groan he can produce. One, two, three, four, five bangs of his head against the wall is all he gets in before Taeyong comes over and grabs his shoulders.

“Doyoung, what are you doing?”

There’s concern in Taeyong’s voice and Doyoung thinks that he _should_ be concerned. Mostly because if Taeyong didn’t come over and stop him, Doyoung is certain that he would have kept going until he couldn’t anymore. “Leave me to die,” he whines, eyes looking up at Taeyong. “Tell Sicheng he can have my job.”

“You’re being really dramatic,” Taeyong says slowly, hand patting Doyoung’s back. “I don’t even know what’s going on, but--” the boy pauses, pressing his lips together as he leans down, wrapping his arms around Doyoung. “It’ll be okay, little Doie. Everything’s going to be fine.”

He’s just about to yell at the boy for calling him that horrid nickname (he _still_ doesn’t know how it came into existence), when he feels his phone vibrate on his lap. Quickly, he pushes Taeyong off of him, not listening to whatever he’s saying now. Instead, he blinks at the notification that covers his wonderful Halloween Molang wallpaper.

It’s not from Jungwoo. It’s a rather long email, one that Doyoung probably isn’t going to actually read. Then, another vibrate and it’s a text (once again, not from Jungwoo). It’s from Taeil and Doyoung narrows his eyes.

_“Doyoung, please read my email. All the way through this time. I’ll be in within the next few days to see how you guys are doing!”_

“Uh oh, is that the big boss?” Taeyong hums, finger poking at Doyoung’s phone.

Taeil is the regional manager, one step above Doyoung. He watches over all the stores in the area, making sure they’re up to date with procedures, displays, promotions, all things that come from the corporate office. He is also one of Doyoung’s good friends, one he actually enjoys hanging out with. (Not saying that his other wonderful employee’s aren’t fun, they are, but Sicheng and Yuta are always glued to each other. And the one time Doyoung went over to Taeyong’s house, all he did is stare at his oven for about an hour after drinking three large coffees in under ten minutes. Then, Haechan was still new but Doyoung just has this _feeling_ that he wouldn’t enjoy being around him for too long.)

It was easy to spend time with Taeil, though most of the time it was involuntary and part of their job, but it was calm. There was never any yelling, never any complaints--well, none from _Doyoung’s_ end, anyway. Taeil constantly scolded him for not doing things correctly. Doyoung’s rather thankful that he’s such good friends with the boy or else he’d be fired by now for sure.

Another buzz from his phone. Doyoung sighs, it’s only the reminder notification that Taeil had texted him. One nineteen. Still no text back from Jungwoo. Maybe he’s still busy. Maybe he got caught up with work. Maybe his phone died because he didn’t have time to charge it last night or something. Doyoung really should text something else, at least to make up for the terrible first text. Right, that’s probably why Jungwoo wasn’t texting back. What could he even say to that?

Taeyong isn’t even next to him anymore. Doyoung isn’t sure when he wandered off, but he really couldn’t care. He unlocks his phone, the conversation with Jungwoo still up. With a deep breath, he bites down on his lip, thumbs typing quickly. _Sorry, dropped my phone while texting lol._ It wasn’t a lie, but it’s been more than ten minutes since the first text and Doyoung prays that Jungwoo doesn’t pay attention to that detail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doyoung paces around his apartment. He’s got a piece of pizza in one hand and his phone in the other, eyes staring into Jungwoo’s name once again. The boy still hasn’t responded. It’s well past eight and nothing, absolutely nothing. There’s no way the random combination of letters and one number turned Jungwoo off from texting him. They used to text each other drunk all the time, absolutely nothing making sense. Or send each other random keyboard smashes when they had something important to tell. Doyoung sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly. He keeps reminding himself this isn’t college anymore.

Jungwoo had a job, a very _good_ job, one that he probably treasures and isn’t going to risk by being on his phone all day like Doyoung does. Jungwoo was probably saving lives right now, checking up on patients and doing whatever radiologists do. Compare that to  Doyoung, who is getting pizza sauce on his shirt and spilling his soda out of his mouth and stepping in it, getting his sock wet. Jungwoo approached him first, Doyoung reminds himself, so there was no way the boy wouldn’t text back.

“Fuck,” Doyoung says as he drops the soda can in his hand and it bounces along the hardwood , liquid coming out with each hit against the floor . Doyoung shoves what's left of the pizza, which is only the crust, in his mouth. Doyoung sets his phone down on the back of the couch, sliding into the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels. Then he’s on his knees, slapping the paper towels on the ground, attempting to clean it up rather quickly while not making more of a mess.

One vibrate. Two, then three. Doyoung peeks his head up, blinking as he narrows his eyes. If it’s Yuta calling to tell him how cute Sicheng is, Doyoung’s going to have his head. He slides on his knees, jaw still chewing at the large piece of crust he had shoved in. And he nearly chokes on that crust when he sees those pawprints show up instead of the rather unattractive picture of Yuta that he expected it to be.

It’s the picture that Doyoung remembers, still to this day, taking. A big, white, comforter is wrapped around Jungwoo, face peeking out and big smile on his lips. Cheeks are rosy and his hair is messy because he had just woken up. But the way the sun hits his face, makes him glow. Doyoung swallows, finally finishing the last bit of pizza. His hand reaches up, grabbing his phone slowly. It stops ringing and that wonderful picture goes away. Doyoung’s eyes widen, realizing that he’s been staring at it instead of actually picking it up. His finger quickly unlocks his phone, biting down hard on his lip and just as he’s about click on his name, that pretty picture pops up again.

“Hello?” Doyoung says quietly, settling down on the floor, back leaning against the couch and legs spreading out slowly. His hand is shaking and even his voice cracked and--why was he so _nervous_?

“Hey, I hope I’m not...” Jungwoo pauses and Doyoung can hear him take a breath, letting it out as he continues, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No,” he responds, way too quickly. He lets out a small laugh, trying to relieve some of the awkwardness. “Sorry I didn’t answer the first time.”

“It’s okay,” is all Jungwoo says before silence comes between them.

He must be on his way home. Doyoung can hear soft music in the background, can hear almost every sound his car makes. He thinks he can even make out when Jungwoo shifts gears--wait, Jungwoo drives stick? Doyoung blinks, biting down on his lip. It’s probably a nice car, maybe one of those expensive ones that have all the expensive features like a backup camera and bluetooth.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

Doyoung feels his cheeks heat up at the question. He parts his lips before pressing them together, fingers curling around his phone. He’s asking to hang out. Jungwoo wants to hang out with _Doyoung_ . He should say yes. He _needs_ to say yes. Doyoung really, really doesn’t want to pass this opportunity up, even if the thought is making his hands sweaty and his knees knock together.

“Yes.” It’s only when Jungwoo lets out a small noise that he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, sorry, I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, do you maybe want to meet somewhere then?” Jungwoo’s voice is soft, careful.

Doyoung peers over at the clock next to his bed. Nine twelve. He swallows before closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. “It’s late.” He pauses, wondering if he should even say what he actually wants. “You could just come over.”

He instantly regrets saying it. Doyoung should _not_ have invited him over. No, he isn’t supposed to be doing this, he’s supposed to be _over_ Jungwoo. He was living perfectly fine without Jungwoo in his life. Doyoung was happy working his job at Hot Topic, happy coming home each day and not having to worry about anything besides what he’s going to have for dinner. It’s just the way his heart has fluttered every time he thinks about Jungwoo., the way he constantly unlocks his phone to look at his name. The way his voice sounds, even on the phone where it deepens slightly; his bubblegum scent; his fluffy hair and soft skin. Doyoung knows he would be even happier, having Jungwoo back in his life.

There’s just the fear of getting hurt again, the fear of falling back in love with Jungwoo only to part again. Doyoung hasn’t dated since. Plenty of hookups and random Tinder dates that only led to unsatisfactory sex. Once or twice, he’s had boys that made him smile, more than they should, but he just always felt _empty_ , like something was missing.

“I would like that.”

Doyoung breathes out slowly, fingers pinching between his brows, wondering why the _fuck_ he just invited Jungwoo over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jungwoo’s staring at Doyoung quietly. He definitely just came from work. He’s got a white button up that has little black polka dots along it, tight black pants that make Doyoung swallow a whine, because he should _not_ be thinking about Jungwoo’s thighs right now. Jungwoo looks nice,  looks _expensive_ . While Doyoung is--in a pair of black jeans that have rips mid-thigh and even one on the back of his left leg. Then there’s the almost five year old baggy, ripped tank top that shows off his small frame. He doesn’t even know what the design on the front it was cheap. That’s exactly what Doyoung felt like right now compared to Jungwoo, _cheap_.

Then, there’s his apartment. It’s cluttered, even after the ten minutes he ran around attempting to clean it up. Posters hang on the wall by his bed, like a high schooler does when they fall in love with one of those punk bands (except Doyoung is twenty-freaking-eight). The couch is, well, old, the leather tearing in places that he’s strategically covered with a blanket. The TV is on an old stand that his mom gave him when he moved out and it’s wobbly so he’s got three flatten boxes from mac ‘n’ cheese holding it up.

“Sorry it’s not,” Doyoung swallows, eyes peering down at the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. “Super fancy, or anything.”

Jungwoo laughs, hands tucking behind his back and Doyoung watches the way his toes wiggle against each other. “It’s really fine. I like it. It’s very _you_.”

It is. Doyoung’s pretty much the same from college. His hair is still a deep black, style still the same (black, black, black with lots of rips and skin showing). He’s gotten tattoos and more piercings, both which make him even more Doyoung than he was back in college. And, like he’s already discovered, Jungwoo is still Jungwoo. He’s switched out the everyday jeans and t-shirt for trousers and button ups, but that was about it.

“Are you hungry? I have some left over pizza. I just got it, like, an hour ago, so it’s probably still good.” Doyoung realizes his words are coming out a bit shaky and he’s taking too many breaths and even his body is moving too much from the small twitches his fingers make and the way his toes hit against each other every few seconds.

“Is it the usual?”

Doyoung blinks, biting down on his lip as he tries to hold back a smile. “Yeah,” he breathes out, body relaxing. “It is.”

They don’t talk as they eat. They don’t have to. They entertain themselves enough, eyes peeking at the other as they chew. Jungwoo has to cover his mouth as he laughs, trying not to let his pizza fall out of his mouth. Doyoung does the same, only he’s trying not to spill soda _again_.

Both of them have their legs tucked under the coffee table. Doyoung had quietly apologized for the lack of actual dining table because it was only ever him for dinner so there was no point in purchasing one. He’s careful to not let his feet hit against Jungwoo’s or even let his hand brush against his thigh. The other isn’t too close but it’s close enough for either of those things to happen. Not to mention it’s close enough for Doyoung to continuously suck in Jungwoo’s wonderful scent.

Jungwoo smells like bubblegum that’s mixed with the typical chemical smell that Doyoung always experiences when he goes to the hospital (which isn’t often but the scent is distinct). There’s the soft, warm feeling that Jungwoo’s always exuded, and even if Jungwoo’s still nervous, hands still sweaty and body jittery, Jungwoo’s making him feel at ease. At least his mind is settling down. It’s remembering the feeling of being next to the boy.

“So,” Jungwoo starts, swallowing before continuing. “What do you do now? Like for work?”

Oh. This is the question that Doyoung _really_ didn’t want him to ask. He could lie, he totally could. It’s not like Jungwoo would really know. He could say he works at some... Doyoung sighs. He doesn’t even have a good lie. Jungwoo is using his degree, works in a hospital doing what he spent his money for. And Doyoung is--

“I’m a manager at Hot Topic.” _Better to just rip the metaphorical band aid off quickly_ , he thinks.

Doyoung closes his eyes, pressing his lips together tightly, fearing what kind of reaction Jungwoo will have. Most likely laugh in his face, asking why he doesn’t do something with his business degree, just like everyone else.

“That’s wonderful.” Jungwoo says and it makes Doyoung peek his eyes open, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Jungwoo’s eyes are wide, not with surprise or concern, but with _interest_. “Tell me about it.”

And Doyoung does. Jungwoo has his legs tucked against his chest, arms wrapped around them and chin leaning on his knees as he listens. Doyoung talks and talks and _talks_ . He tells Jungwoo about Sicheng and Yuta,how they’re secretly (but not secretly) dating, how Sicheng always acts dumb around Yuta so he’ll hold his hand and walk him through whatever task he’s been giving. Jungwoo clicks his tongue at that, slapping his hand against the floor. _He shouldn’t act dumb to get attention!_ Which makes them both burst out in laughter.

Then there’s Taeyong, with the ever changing bright hair, and Haechan, with the voice that’s way too loud. Taeil, who constantly yells at him for not putting enough merchandise on the highest rack in the walls (though, Doyoung has told him so many times that he can’t _reach_ it). By the time he’s finished with his half hour long rant about his coworkers and everyday difficulties, Doyoung is out of breath. He slumps against the couch, legs stretching as he leans his head back, eyes blinking slowly at Jungwoo. A smile pulls his lips up, because it feels so _good_ to have someone listen to him talk about his job. Jaehyun sometimes does, but he’s always distracted, mostly by his phone and the obnoxious amount of notifications he gets, or scrunches his nose up and tells Doyoung that he should get a better job. Jungwoo, he was _actually_ listening to him.

So, Doyoung returns the favor and listens to Jungwoo after asking about his job. Jungwoo isn’t as elaborat, doesn’t talk with his hands like Doyoung, but his voice changes pitch several times. He even changes his tone entirely when he mocks one of the girls that he works with, making Doyoung shove his face in his hands, trying to quiet the laughter. Jungwoo is an ultrasound technician, so most of his stories are about parent’s reactions to their baby or ridiculous questions that they ask.

“Johnny and Jaehyun come to me,” he says, tapping his fingers against the table. “It’s pretty funny actually. I hadn’t talked to them in so long. I’ve been so busy with training and working. Then I saw their name on my list of patients, and well,” Jungwoo laughs, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Now I practically talk to them every day. Jaehyun’s a little, well, paranoid about things going wrong so he calls me _all_ the time.” Jungwoo lifts his hands up, throwing them up before puffing his cheeks out. “Even though I’m not his _doctor_ , and I’ve _told_ him a thousand times that everything’s fine, he still freaks out. Though, I guess it’s pretty common with first time parents.”

Doyoung smiles. He’s listening, he swears, it’s just the way Jungwoo’s lips move as he talks; the way his chest rises and falls with every breath; the way he runs his hand through his hair, fingers slim and long. Doyoung feels his cheeks heat up and he’s just missed this _so_ much, missed everything about Jungwoo. The more he sits next to him,  sees his features as he talks, listens to his soft voice, the more Doyoung realizes he’s never fell out of love.

“Ah,” Jungwoo says with a sigh, lips curling into a frown as he tilts his arm, fingers pulling down his sleeve, revealing the sparkly watch that’s nearly as big as his whole wrist. “I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up.”

Twelve fifty-seven. Doyoung bites on his lip. It doesn’t feel like it’s been nearly four hours since they’ve settled on the floor. “I feel like I’m keeping _you_ up.” Doyoung doesn’t normally even get into his bed until three (even then, he’ll scroll through social media or text Yuta for another hour). Doyoung runs on a lack of sleep and too much caffeine.

“You’re not.” It comes out with a breath and Doyoung watches as Jungwoo swallows.

Doyoung knows he’s staring, knows he’s looking at him for too long. He shouldn’t be, but Doyoung just can’t stop. It’s been so long, so long since he’s had _anything_ Jungwoo. It feels like he’s repeated it to himself a thousand times. He needs some kind of validation for how much he’s stared at the boy.

They get up slowly. Doyoung gathers their trash, meandering to the already overflowing garbage can. Soft curses come out of his mouth as the plates fall on the floor and he winces when he realizes how loud he’s being pushing them back into to the can, foot on top and practically his whole body weight as he steps on the random garbage.

Jungwoo is putting on his shoes when Doyoung walks over to him. As he looks up at him, Doyoung can see how the corners of his eyes are slightly down, lips matching, pushed down into a frown. The younger one hesitates, lips parting, closing, parting again, Doyoung watching every moment of them, before finally saying what he wants.

“I’ve missed you.” Jungwoo’s lips press together again, chest expanding, then slowly sinking back down. “ _Doyoung_ , I’ve really missed you.”

There’s more that Jungwoo wants to say. There’s that look on his face that he always gets when he’s holding things back. Brown eyes swell up, like he’s going to cry, his nose even becomes pink and his fingers curl against his thighs. Doyoung doesn’t look any better, face completely red (almost as red as those contacts that he sometimes wears). His heart is beating hard and he’s positive that if Jungwoo was looking at his chest, he could see every thump it makes.

Like most times, Doyoung could say a million things, but right now, he just wants to say what he’s actually thinking. Doyoung should just stay quiet and see Jungwoo out the door nicely, because he doesn’t want to get attached, doesn’t want to crave the boy anymore than he already does. But they’re already here, already had hours together again and things feel so, _so_ good.

“I’ve missed you too.” It’s not as quiet as Jungwoo’s confession, but it’s equally as sincere.

Jungwoo’s cheeks turn red at his words and his lips are no longer in a frown. Teeth are pressed in his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth gently before he lets it go completely. “I’ll text you later.”

Later apparently means the second that the door closes behind him. It isn’t anything elaborate or cheesy, just a simple blushing smiley face and Doyoung knows that’s exactly how Jungwoo looks right now. So he sends back the wide-eyed blushing one, replicating his own face. His phone is thrown on the bed and so is he, face landing straight into his pillow like a lovestruck teenager.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s fingers snapping in front of his face. Doyoung is trying to ignore them, eyes focusing on his phone instead. The way the little bubble with those three dots pop up, telling him Jungwoo is responding back to his most recent emoji, then his phone is taken out of his hands and Doyoung almost screams.

“ _What_ are you doing?” It comes through his teeth and he tries to reach his phone that’s currently being held up by Sicheng (and if he wasn’t bound behind the counter, he could absolutely reach it). “Give me my phone back!”

“Not until you promise you’ll stop giggling and smiling at it like a weirdo.” Sicheng narrows his eyes. Then his head tilts back, lips parting as he attempts to read the phone from his extended arm. “Who are you even texting?”

As Sicheng is staring up at the phone, trying to read the small letters, Doyoung walks around the counter, stomping his feet as he jumps up, grabbing the phone successfully from the boy’s hand. “No one. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business when you’re on your phone all day instead of _helping_ me.” Sicheng’s lips purse into a pout.

Doyoung sighs, hand running through his hair slowly. “What do you need help with?”

The other crosses his arms as he slumps against the counter. “Did you forget that Taeil is coming today? If we don’t have the Halloween makeup display done, he’s going to have our throats. _Your_ throat.”

 _Fuck_ , Doyoung thinks, biting down on his bottom lip. That _was_ supposed to be done. Sicheng is right, too, if he doesn’t have not only the makeup display ready and everything Halloween themed out, he’s really going to hear it. For once, he actually _did_ read the long email that Taeil had sent and he definitely remembers that part. Halloween is in two weeks and everybody knows that Hot Topic is _the_ place for the holiday. So if Doyoung doesn’t get his fucking shit together, they’re all going to be in trouble.

“Okay,” he breathes out, shoving the phone in his pocket. Jungwoo would have to wait. As much as he wants to keep sending silly emojis to the boy, he needed this job, _really_ needed it. And even if he does have a rather harsh choice of style that makes him look like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, Doyoung cares about the store and his employees as well. “Where’s Haechan?”

“He’s in the back getting all the boxes together.”

He fakes a sob, hand on his chest. “I really trained him well.” He doesn’t need to look at the other to know he’s rolling his eyes, the loud sigh lets him know.

“Come on,” SIcheng says, grabbing his arm. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Despite the fact that not even an hour ago, Doyoung had just been reminded that Taeil was coming to make sure they were ready for the holiday, they did really fucking well pulling the store together. Sicheng managed to straighten all the costumes on the wall and Haechan even hooked on all the sale information on the stands, which Doyoung didn’t even _ask_ him to do, which makes Doyoung unnecessarily proud of him. Haechan wasn’t half bad afterall.

“Okay, Sicheng, I need you to put the sign on the window about the instagram contest. Haechan, can you make sure all the shirts are folded _nicely_ and in the correct spot?” Doyoung waits, eyebrows raised as the two stare back at him. Then they stare at each other, then back at Doyoung. “What,” he spits out, huffing as he crosses his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Haechan looks at Sicheng again before pursing his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serious about this before. Normally you’re-”

Sicheng puts his hand over Haechan’s mouth. Doyoung narrows his eyes at the two until Sicheng lets out a small laugh. “We’ll get right on that.”

Doyoung mouths a ‘ _thank you_ ’ before he runs his hand through his hair, leaning back against the counter. It was going to be okay. The store looks fine--no, it looks _wonderful_ . Costumes are out, all one thousand of them; makeup, check; props, check; sales signs, done. Everything looks _perfect_. There would be absolutely nothing for Taeil to pick apart. With a blink, Doyoung turns around, finger sliding against the counter. His eyes narrow as he holds it up to the light. With a nod, he smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “I like this.”

 There’s fingers on his nose ring and Doyoung pushes them away as he tilts his head to sneeze. He laughs, biting down on his lip as he returns to looking at Jungwoo. “Thanks.”

“And these are new too, right?” Jungwoo tilts his head, fingers gently touching the two new studs that Doyoung has on his right ear.

“Yeah. I had my eyebrow pierced too but it uh, fell out.” Doyoung pauses, sucking in a breath when he remembers how it _actually_ fell out. A story that’s left him with a bigger scar than necessary and Doyoung’s found himself using eyebrow pencils to cover it up, at least a little. Jungwoo didn’t need to know about that though. It makes Doyoung shiver just at the memory.

Doyoung’s back to staring at Jungwoo. He’s biting down on his pretzel, lips slowly parting and he can see his nice front teeth as he tugs off a piece. With a soft huff, Doyoung wraps his own lips around the straw sticking out of his milkshake.

“Do you wanna walk around? I need some more shirts for work.”

The honest answer is no, Doyoung doesn’t want to walk around. He didn’t even really want to come to the mall, but he’s so fucking _whipped_ for Jungwoo right now that he couldn’t have possibly said no. Besides, it’s not like Doyoung would actually be doing anything with his time. Doyoung would be at home by himself, probably taking a nap and watching that new anime Yuta texted him about at two in the morning. Not to mention that he’s silently admitted defeat to his feelings because trying to act like he isn’t interested in Jungwoo is really, really, _really_ a drag, and not to mention a lot of work, too much work. Stil, Doyoung fights back the urge to kiss the boy and ask him out on a date.

Doyoung starts coughing when the word _date materializes_ in his mind. He covers his mouth with one hand, the other on his chest as he wheezes like an idiot, because, _oh my god, was this a date?_ Did Jungwoo ask him to come to the mall because he wanted to go on a _date_?

 _No_ , Doyoung sucks in a breath slowly, _this couldn’t be a date_ . Sure, they’ve been texting nonstop for the last week but it’s barely been any actual words, and just the whole fucking keyboard of emojis. This was _not_ a date. Jungwoo had to run some errands and Doyoung had sent the weird straight faced smiley like four times before Jungwoo called him asking if he wanted to go with him to the mall. _Not_ a date.

Then, there was the fact that they’re at the mall where Doyoung _works,_ which means he’s been making awkward eye contact with all the other mall employees that have seen him shoving his face full of fries and other various junk food. And he just really doesn’t want to walk past his own store because he knows someone is going to say something if they see him with Jungwoo.

“Are you okay?” Jungwoo has a pout on his lips as he shoves the several dirty napkins into his empty pretzel bag.

“I’m fine,” he lies, forcing a small smile and definitely not watching the way Jungwoo licks his lips.

Then, they’re walking down the mall. Jungwoo’s quietly humming to himself while Doyoung is in the middle of his hundredth midlife crisis. They’re getting closer and closer to his store and Jungwoo’s hand keeps bumping against Doyoung’s and his face is so red, he can feel the heat radiating off of it. Out of the corner of his eye, Doyoung spots Taeyong’s newly dyed hair (blue) Without thinking, Doyoung grabs Jungwoo’s hand when it bumps against his again, tugging him to the other side of the walkway.

Once they’re hidden behind on of those random kiosks that don’t sell anything relevant, Doyoung lets go of Jungwoo’s hand. He swallows as he sees the way Jungwoo is looking at him. His face is bright red and his teeth are pressed nicely into his bottom lip. Doyoung lets out a laugh, brows furrowing and hands rubbing at his sides. “Sorry. Those shirts look nice and I figured you might want to go in.”

The shirts did look nice and at the words, he sees Jungwoo relax slightly. There’s a gentle smile on his lips before he parts them. “Thanks.”

Doyoung tries to forget that he’s in the store directly across from his own and that he’s not exactly easy at blending in. Especially not with the chain hanging from his hip, the loud boots, classic overly ripped jeans, and shiny piercings. Oh and the jean jacket that has a giant mouth on the back that has fangs and is dripping blood. Yeah, he was easy to spot.

Jungwoo however, fit right in as they wander down around the store. The complete opposite from Doyoung.  He’s in a sweater, two to be exact. The bottom one is a light pink button turtleneck, yes Doyoung hates pink but Jungwoo makes the pink look appealing, even to Doyoung. Layered on top is a white sweater with a matching pink stripe across his chest.

“What do you think about this one?” Jungwoo tilts his head, hands holding up a light blue button up that has a nice pocket on the right chest, there’s nothing special about it at all, just for some reason, Doyoung finds himself liking it. “I think I have one like this already, but I really like the pocket.”

Doyoung bites his lip. It’s not his style. Not by any means. “I think it would look good on you.” It would, honestly. Doyoung thinks that Jungwoo could probably wear a trash bag and still look good. The other smiles, hanging the shirt over his arm.

Several shirts later, Doyoung realizes that he’s been following Jungwoo around like a puppy, steps close with his and his feet occasionally even bump into Jungwoo’s. The other doesn’t say anything. Sometimes, he’ll look back and give Doyoung a smile, but that’s it. “Do you need anything? Or did you see anything you wanted?” Jungwoo parts his lips before letting out a sigh. “I guess this isn’t really where you’d shop,” he laughs out, hand running through his hair.

It isn’t, but that’s not what Doyoung’s lips are parted for. Jungwoo offered to buy him something. He already bought lunch, quickly shoving his card into the reader before Doyoung even had time to dig his out of his too tight jeans. Now, he was offering to buy him clothes. Doyoung waits until Jungwoo turns around, smiling brightly at the cashier, to hit his forehead with his palm several times, _hard_.

The thought was lovely, it really is because in reality, Doyoung does need more clothes. More than half of his are from college and the other half he’s taken home from work _secretly_ . But no. Jungwoo cannot buy him anything else. The more he offers to buy him, the more it seems like a date, and it is _not_ a date.

“Doyoung!”

  _No._

"Doyoung! Over here!”

_Please, no._

“Um,” Jungwoo says quietly, tapping his shoulder. “I think they might--”

Doyoung lets out the biggest sigh. His nose scrunches and he leans his head back. “I know.”

Sicheng and Haechan are smiling at him brightly, hands waving in the air and Haechan is even jumping up and down. Doyoung presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a breath. _This is it_ , he thinks, _this is where my life ends_.

“What?”

Doyoung blinks, quickly clearing his throat because he definitely didn’t think he said that outloud. Jungwoo obviously heard him though, eyes blinking at him and head tilted from the confusion. He shakes his head, trying to laugh it off as he thinks of what to do. There’s honestly only two options: one would be to go over and endure all the questions and looks he’s going to get, or two would be to run down the mall, probably leaving Jungwoo behind, and call out for the next week with the flu.

Jungwoo makes the decision for him and begins walking towards the two eager boys. Doyoung stomps his foot, whining as he follows behind the other.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you at the mall on your day off, Doyoung.”

“These are my employees,” Doyoung says quickly and loudly, attempting to stop the other two from talking. He gives them a glare that hopefully shuts them up before smiling at Jungwoo. “Sicheng and Haechan.”

Jungwoo smiles, bag wiggling against his side as he waves. “Nice to meet you. Doyoung’s told me all about you.” Doyoung wishes that Jungwoo wasn’t so sweet and friendly because he doesn’t want him feeding into them. The more attention they get, the more questions they’re going to ask. They’re like animals.

“Are you guys on a date?” Haechan says, hand pressed against one side of his cheek. It’s not a whisper and Doyoung _feels_ his face and _sees_ Jungwoo’s face light up. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh! That must be who he’s been texting all the time,” Sicheng says and the two of them collectively _ahhh._

At this point, Doyoung thinks he’s about to burst. He sucks in a breath slowly through his nose, swallowing as he turns to look at Jungwoo. “I’ll be right back. I have to make sure they’re doing their job since they have so much free time to talk.” Jungwoo parts his lips but Doyoung grabs both Sicheng and Haechan’s ear, tugging them into the store and ignoring the ‘ _but Yuta is here_!’ coming from Haechan.

“Listen, both of you,” Doyoung says with a whine. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend and don’t go telling anyone that, okay?”

“If he’s not your boyfriend, then why is your face all red.” It’s not a question, really, it’s a statement and Sicheng blinks at him, waiting for an answer.

“I-It doesn’t matter!”

Doyoung stomps his foot and he watches as Haechan’s eyes narrow, smile on his lips. “You like him.”

“I’m leaving.” Doyoung says rather loud, hands covering his face. He stops and turns around on his heels quickly, finger pointing at the pair. “Don’t say anything. I mean it.”

One of them responds with something and then all he can hear is laughing from behind him. Doyoung sucks in a breath slowly, hoping to calm himself down. Jungwoo is standing there awkwardly, both hands holding his bag that’s practically at his feet with the way he’s let his arms hang. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and eyes wandering, most likely reading the paragraph of fine print under the Halloween contest promotion hung on the window.

“Sorry,” Doyoung mutters, hand running through his hair slowly. “About that, about them.”

Jungwoo smiles, lips parting to let out a small laugh. “It’s okay. I remember you said they’re a little nosy.” And Jungwoo does a small bounce as he talks and Doyoung bites his lip, sighing softly because God _damn it_.

“Um..” It’s awkward, both of them standing in silence, both oddly moving their feet against the ground. “This can be a date if you want it to be?” Jungwoo’s voice is quiet and it doesn’t even really sound like a question, more like a statement.

A whine is what comes out first. Followed by a full face blush and sweat beginning to form on the palms of his hands. And Doyoung doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, because he never used to be like this before, never so nervous around him. Sure, sometimes he got flustered around Jungwoo. He would kiss Doyoung in the most random, quickest ways that always took him off guard. He was a bit shy before they started dating last time, naturally, but he’s done this before. He’s been on a hundred dates with Jungwoo. They’ve kissed, held hands, made out, Jungwoo even sucked his dick in the movie theater once but this. _This_ is a whole new level for him.

With a deep breath, Doyoung looks at Jungwoo. “I would like that. I would like it a lot actually.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Six twenty-two. Jungwoo rings the doorbell. Doyoung runs, sliding halfway to the door before practically stumbling as he runs into the dozen pairs of shoes he has. He takes a breath, pinching his fingers together and exhaling. This was nothing new. Jungwoo’s been over his house after work the last three night in a row. All three times they’ve stayed up way too late, talking, playing games, giggling at each other.

“How many times do I have to tell Jaehyun that Johnny is absolutely fine,” Jungwoo groans, kicking his shoes against the wall. He sighs, lips pursing into a pout as he looks at Doyoung. “Let me change and then maybe we can order Chinese? I’m starving.”

Doyoung lets out a breathy laugh, nodding. Jungwoo smiles back at him, hand running through his hair and feet pressing softly against the floor as he walks to the bathroom. It takes only a minute and a gentle rustle of the bag he’s carrying before Jungwoo walks back out, puffing his cheeks out as he laughs softly. “I don’t know why I go in there,” he says quietly. “Is it-- can I change out here?”

Doyoung parts his lips. “Sure,” he says quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up. He doesn’t blame Jungwoo though,. The bathroom is small, really small. It doesn’t help that Doyoung still hasn’t cleaned up in, like, a month, and there’s empty soap bottles and loose eyeshadow all over the counter.

He doesn’t want to look. (That’s a lie, but he’s trying not to look because maybe it’s too soon.) They’ve seen each other naked before, plenty of times. Lots of showers together and naked cuddles, but that was back when they were together. And, sure, they’ve gone on like two dates (their second one being to the bookstore to get Jungwoo some new medical book that just came out), but they _weren’t_ boyfriends.

“Like, okay, I get that Johnny’s peed himself like four times already today but that doesn’t mean his water has broken,” Jungwoo says quickly, tongue clicking. “He just has a lot of pressure on his bladder with _twins_ and it’s completely natural.” The more Jungwoo talks, the harder it is for Doyoung not to look over at him. “And I am _not_ their doctor!”

Jungwoo grunts and Doyoung hears him stumble a bit and that’s it., all control is lost. His eyes look over at Jungwoo from kitchen where he’s leaning on the counter, fingers on the takeout menu. The boy has his work pants halfway off his legs, hands struggling to take them off as he bounces on one foot, leaning against the wall. Button up is already gone, lying on the floor next to him. His skin is just as smooth and soft looking as before. There’s outlines of muscles on his stomach, which is new. _Biceps have shaped up nicely_ , Doyoung notes, not too defined, but enough for Doyoung to notice as he struggles with his pants _still_.

Finally, Jungwoo gets his pants off. Doyoung bites his lip, trying not not make it obvious that he’s staring at Jungwoo. Though, at this point, he probably actually wouldn’t care if he said something about it. There’s a soft ringing and Jungwoo tugs on his hair with both hands. “If that’s Jaehyun again,” he doesn’t even finish his sentence, walking straight over to the bed where he’s tossed his phone.

The other begins talking, but Doyoung’s not listening. Instead, he’s walking over to the boy, biting his lip the whole time as he watches him run his hand through his hair and then put his hand on his hip. Jungwoo’s trying to stay calm, he can hear it in his voice. There’s the politeness that could be found in any medical person's voice, not necessarily fake, more like frustrated. Especially since it seems like Jungwoo’s not only had a hard day at work, but a hard day answering the same question over and over again from their overreacting friend. Doyoung lets out a quiet laugh, because he’d probably be doing the same.

“Look, I know you’re worried but, please,” Jungwoo says with a sad sigh. “ _Please_ , just trust me that he’s fine. If there’s blood or anything coming out that isn’t clear, then that’s when you can call the doctor. Not me, please. I-”

Jungwoo turns around. His lips are still parted and Doyoung watches the way his fingers curl around his phone more, nails almost digging into his cheek. And with some weird surge of confidence, Doyoung leans forward, pressing his lips against Jungwoo’s. Thankfully, the other doesn’t pull away (not that Doyoung actually thought he would). It’s nice knowing he’s not pulling away, not uncomfortable with the kiss. The phone is still pressed against his ear as their heads tilt, lips pressing together again slowly. Doyoung laughs against Jungwoo’s lips as he hears Jaehyun still talking on the other side of the phone.

The taller one gets the hint, pulling away only enough to hang up, tossing his phone on the bed. Then there’s arms wrapped around Doyoung’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Naturally, Doyoung’s own hands find their way onto Jungwoo’s hips. Yeah, that skin is still just as soft as he remembers. They stay like that. It doesn’t turn into more than light kisses. Jungwoo tugs on Doyoung’s lip every once in a while, giggling against it as he sucks it into his mouth.

When they pull away, Jungwoo presses his hand against Doyoung’s chest. He’s absolutely positive that the Jungwoo can feel how fast his heart is beating. Doyoung bites at his lip, watching the way Jungwoo tries to catch his breath, lips wet and red. His cheeks are almost the same color. “Sorry,” Doyoung says, fingers curling against Jungwoo’s hips. “I know kissing calms you down.”

It does. Whenever Jungwoo felt stressed about anything at all, he would always pout and ask for kisses. On days after tests he would walk in Doyoung’s dorm, door slamming against the wall and eyes burning holes into him before grabbing his cheeks and giving him a kiss. Then, he would sigh and flop down on the bed, saying how much better he felt.

Jungwoo smiles, nodding as he bites down on his lip before running his hands down Doyoung’s arms.“Chinese still?”

Doyoung nods, swallowing before letting out a small laugh. “Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Yuta says, hands hitting against the counter, startling Sicheng, who’s pressed against him. “My house. Nine. I have enough alcohol to make us all get our stomachs pumped, _and_ enough weed to last for days.”

Doyoung hums, nodding as he taps his finger against his chin. “What are you guys wearing?”

“I’m thinking Light from Death Note.” Yuta says, hand pointing to his newly dyed hair. “Perfect hair color. I think I could pull it off pretty good.”

“I’m going as a mouse.” Sicheng shrugs, ignoring the eye roll from Yuta. “I guess a _sexy_ mouse.” He lets his own eyes roll when Yuta pats his head. “What about you?”

Doyoung hasn’t really given much thought into his Halloween costume. Mostly because he’s been too busy thinking about Jungwoo. And kissing Jungwoo. And holding his hand. And texting him. “Probably a bunny again.” The statement earns a ‘ _boring_ ’ along with a boo from both Yuta and Sicheng. “Shut up,” he says, face scrunching up. “Tell me you know someone that can be a better bunny than me.” Yuta parts his lips and Doyoung quickly holds his hand up. “Nevermind. Forget I even asked.”

“Are you gonna invite your boyfriend?” Yuta’s fingers wiggle at him and Doyoung slaps them away, sighing as he runs his hand through his hair.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” He isn’t. At least, Jungwoo hasn’t asked him to be. And they’re not Facebook official yet, so they’re _not_ dating. “I don’t think it’s really his scene,” Doyoung purses his lips, sighing as he leans his face against his hand. “Not anymore.”

“Oh right,” Sicheng says, nodding slowly to himself. “He’s a doctor.” Doyoung is quick to correct him because Jungwoo is _not_ a doctor, he’s an _ultrasound technician_.

“You should invite him anyways,” Yuta says, humming as he stretches his arms up. “He seems nice. Though, I don’t know how you two are even compatible… Have you _seen_ the way he dresses?” He gags, finger pointing into his mouth before walking away to the customer who just walked in.

“What are you guys talking about?” Haechan says, slightly out of breath as he carried three, rather large, boxes out from the storage closet.

“You’re not invited,” Yuta whispers to him as he walks by, sticking his tongue out.

Haechan scoffs. “What? Why not?”

Sicheng shrugs, fingers tapping against the counter, one picking at the at least ten year old Fall Out Boy sticker. “You’re not old enough.”

That starts a full blown argument about how seventeen year olds should be considered adults. Haechan sticks his tongue out, wiggling it as he drops the boxes on the ground. “If I was in Korea, I’d be eighteen, so _hah_!”

“Well, we’re not in _Korea_ , are we? We’re in _America,_ and you’re seventeen!”

“I’m old _enough!_ ”

“No you’re _not_!”

Doyoung presses his hands against his face, whining as he curls his fingers into his palms, hitting them against his forehead. He couldn’t wait until Halloween was _over_ and he could go back to coming in at noon and leaving at three.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jungwoo has his teeth pressed down on the eraser of his pencil. His legs are crossed under the coffee table, his face too close to the textbook in front of him. Doyoung laughs as his glasses fall off for the third time in five minutes. (Though, it seems like Jungwoo is unphased by it, tugging them back on without breaking eye contact with the words he’s reading.)

“You know you don’t have to come over if you have work to do,” Doyoung says, leaning back on his hands, stretching his legs out slowly. “I feel like I’m gonna distract you.”

The other shakes his head, humming as he switches his pencil out for his highlighter, tongue peeking out as he moves the tip along a whole paragraph. “It’s not really anything important.” Jungwoo smiles, head tilting to look at Doyoung, fingers pushing his glasses up. “Just extra stuff I’m interested in.”

“Like what?” Doyoung tilts his head, trying to see the words on the pages.

“I’ve been thinking about becoming a midwife. You know, those people that help deliver babies?” Jungwoo says with a laugh. “Honestly,” he sighs, fingers pulling off his glasses, setting them on his textbook. “Having Jaehyun call me everyday made me want to learn.”

Doyoung licks his lips, laughing as he lets his chin fall against his chest. “That’s--really cute.”

“It’s a lot of work,” Jungwoo says with a sigh, hands running through his hair. He tilts his head, elbow pressing against the coffee table, smile tugging his lips up. “This reminds me of college,” he says with a soft breath. “Remember when we used to stay up all night studying?”

“And you would always pass out in your books and wake up with ink on your face?”

Both of them laugh, Jungwoo hitting his hand against the table and Doyoung tilting his head back, eyes looking up at the ceiling. Once they catch their breath, Jungwoo pushes the table forward, sliding out from under it. “You remember what else we would do?”

Doyoung swallows, watching as Jungwoo slides onto his lap. His fingers curl against Doyoung’s leather jacket that he still hasn’t taken off (because it’s _part_ of his outfit). Jungwoo’s looking at him, cheeks pink and teeth biting down into his bottom lip. Doyoung sucks in a breath when Jungwoo runs his hand down his chest, nail gently pressing into his white shirt. “I think I remember,” Doyoung whispers before cupping the back of Jungwoo’s head, pulling him down for a kiss.

It starts off slow, like most of their kisses, though, it’s rather obvious what Jungwoo wants. His tongue is pushed in his mouth and it takes everything in Doyoung not to moan already. He lets himself fall back against the floor, groaning softly as his shoulders dig into the hardwood. Jungwoo laughs against his lips, hands pressed against the hard floor above Doyoung’s shoulders.

“This isn’t,” Jungwoo says quietly, pulling away enough to look at Doyoung, pout beginning to form on his lips. “This isn’t too fast or anything, right?”

In a way, it was. They’ve still only gone on two dates, technically. It’s been less than a month since they’ve started talking again. The only thing they’ve done so far is hold hands and share the most basic, small kisses. But then again, they had done this before. Jungwoo wasn’t a stranger, not by any means, and Doyoung’s past trying to push his romantic thoughts about the boy away.

“No,” he breathes out, laughing softly as he smiles at the way Jungwoo looks like he might cry. “But can we at least move to my bed?”

It doesn’t take long before they’re in the same position, except Doyoung’s back isn’t in pain from the hardwood (not that his bed is honestly much better, but it’s _something_ ). Jungwoo’s on his lap, hands running down his sides as he pushes his tongue back in his mouth. Doyoung doesn’t hold back the moan this time. Jungwoo tastes as good as he always smells, sweet as bubblegum. _God_ , how Doyoung’s _missed_ this, missed being pressed against the boy, lips against each other, and just _feeling_ Jungwoo, literally any part of him, physically and emotionally.

Jungwoo pulls away, arms crossing and fingers tugging his shirt off. Doyoung bites down on his lip, holding back the laugh as he runs his hands down Jungwoo’s chest. “You’re so hot,” he breathes out, feeling his cheeks heat up, especially at the way Jungwoo jolts as his thumb brushes against his nipple.

“Come on,” he says, fingers tugging at Doyoung’s shirt _and_ jacket. “You know I don’t like waiting.” With a laugh, Doyoung pushes himself up. It’s enough to slip his jacket off without making Jungwoo get up. But he stops him before he pulls his shirt off. “Wait,” fingers pull up his shirt and Jungwoo _gasps_ . “Oh, my god, you have your _nipples_ pierced?”

Doyoung is unsure whether it’s actually a question, a statement, or a combination of both. He nods, breathing out as he tugs his shirt off slowly. “Yeah. A year ago. It’s actually a funny story. I never intended on getting them pierced, never, ever, ever. But one time when I was hanging out with Yuta--.”

Jungwoo shuts him up with kiss, effectively ending the embarrassing story that Doyoung started spitting out. “That’s--”

Jungwoo doesn’t finish, all he does is swallow and push his hips down against Doyoung’s leg, and _that’s_ enough for Doyoung to pull the boy down into another kiss. He’s forgotten what Jungwoo feels like, forgotten all the gentle curves and bones that stick out more than they should, forgotten how quickly Jungwoo melts into him with the simplest of touches and how easy it is to tease him, earning a drawn out whine when Doyoung leans up to lick at his nipple.

They part to take their pants off. It’s quick and Doyoung nearly falls onto the bed as he peels his jeans off. Before he can pull his underwear down, Jungwoo grabs his hand. “Do you have--um--” Doyoung tilts his head, ready to respond with _yes, I do have condoms, but I’m clean if you want to do without_ , but that’s not what Jungwoo ends up saying. “Is your dick pierced too?”

It comes out as a whisper mixed with a lazy whine. Doyoung blinks, taken back by the question. He licks his lips, shaking his head slowly. “No but,” he pauses, watching the way Jungwoo’s staring up at him. “I _could_ get it pierced.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down Doyoung’s spine. He tries not to let Jungwoo know, but the other is too busy staring at his crotch.

Jungwoo looks up at him, head nodding so slowly that Doyoung isn’t even sure it’s moving at all. He lets out a laugh, biting down on his lip as he pushes his hand through Jungwoo’s hair. Nothing has to be said (nothing ever did). Jungwoo’s slid off the bed, knees pressing into the floor as his hands tug down Doyoung’s underwear. He’s waiting for the comment about the Oreo tattoo he has on his hip but he thinks Jungwoo is just ignoring it, which he doesn’t blame him for.

There’s lips around his cock and Doyoung _moans_ , really moans. His fingers curl in Jungwoo’s hair, tugging on it slowly as his tongue slides along the underside, and Jungwoo looks up at him with those big brown eyes of his that are now hooded and dark. His cheeks are pink and Doyoung sucks his bottom lip in his mouth as Jungwoo takes him all the way in, never breaking eye contact.

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung says quietly, fingers running along his jaw, tapping it gently. “Let me.”

They don’t really have to talk. Even though it’s been years, Doyoung still remembers everything he likes. He knows Jungwoo likes the insides of his thighs touched. Likes getting hickeys there and bite marks. He still remembers that Jungwoo likes having Doyoung’s tongue pressed against his hole, flicking quickly. His thighs shake and his toes always curled up against Doyoung’s shoulders, moans spilling out of his mouth quickly.

“Wait,” Jungwoo breathes out, hands tugging on Doyoung’s hair gently. “Come here.”

Doyoung wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, nodding as he leans forward, letting Jungwoo wrap his legs around his waist. There’s hands cupping his cheeks and he’s pulled down for a kiss. It’s a gentle one, despite their situation. Doyoung doesn’t even let his hips meet with Jungwoo’s, wanting to keep the innocence of the kiss.

“I--” Jungwoo starts, forehead pressing against Doyoung’s, fingers pushing into his hair gently. “I know I said this before, but...” he pauses again, teeth biting down on his bottom lip. “Doyoung, I really missed you.” Jungwoo’s brow furrows and the fingers in Doyoung’s hair curl just slightly. “I’m sorry how things ended. I was just so overwhelmed with everything, and I wanted to give you what you deserved, which was more than what I could give--” he sucks in a breath, pressing his lips together as he sucks in a breath. “I still like you,” there’s a laugh this time, a gentle one but it’s there. “Obviously.” and Doyoung can’t help but laugh with him, nodding slowly. “And I’d really like to do this again. To try again.”

Part of Doyoung wishes they weren’t naked and on the verge of fucking right now. Jungwoo has tears in his eyes and even Doyoung’s eyes are beginning to swell. “I still love you,” he blurts out, watching the way Jungwoo’s face gets contorted with sadness. “I--” He sucks in a breath, exhaling it out, “Jungwoo, I don’t think I ever _stopped_ loving you.”

“Stop,” Jungwoo whines, foot hitting Doyoung’s butt. “You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t wanna cry right now.” There’s a pout on his lips as he leans his head back, fingers gently wiping at the corners of his eyes. “I just want you to fuck me,” he says with a laugh.

Doyoung does. It’s not as rough as it had been,  no filthy words coming from either of their mouths. The bed is only shaking slightly, gently rocking against the wall. Jungwoo’s still loud, still moaning and whining and softly begging Doyoung to go faster. When he feels Jungwoo tighten around him, Doyoung grabs Jungwoo’s hands from where they’re resting on his side, pushing his fingers in the spaces between Jungwoo’s fingers, squeezing his hands gently.

There’s a different kind of blush that comes on top of Jungwoo’s cheeks, and Doyoung can tell he wants to close his eyes, wants to squeeze them shut as he orgasms, but he doesn’t. Jungwoo parts his lips, breathy moans coming from them. His hands grip Doyoung’s, squeezing them so, so tight as his muscles start to flutter around him. That’s all it takes for Doyoung’s own orgasm to peak. Their lips meet and Jungwoo moans against them, back arching as Doyoung pushes all the way in, toes curling against the bed.

And they stay like that. Doyoung doesn’t know how long; he doesn’t really care. Jungwoo’s still kissing him, fingers gripping his hands. Doyoung doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way before. It’s unique, the feeling, getting the chance to fall in love with someone again (even if he’s not sure he fell out of love to begin with). Everything feels new, yet familiar. Jungwoo is still Jungwoo,  the same boy he loved three years ago, but it’s different now. It was fresher, almost like the air in spring, one that’s filled with cherry blossoms. _Yeah_ , Doyoung thinks, like those scenes in animes where there’s dozens of cherry blossoms floating throughout the air _all_ the time.

“You don’t mind if I spend the night, do you?” Jungwoo whispers as Doyoung sits up, pulling out of him slowly. The boy gasps, back arching and quiet laugh coming from his lips. “I don’t wanna go home.”

Doyoung nods, sliding down to lay next to Jungwoo. He tilts his head, elbow pushing into the mattress as he holds his head up in his hand. “My bed isn’t that comfy... and my window doesn’t shut all the way, so it gets kinda cold. I’m sure you’d really rather just sleep in your own bed.”

Jungwoo stares at him, brows furrowed for several seconds before his eyes crescent downwards and he lets out the biggest laugh. “Doyoung,” he breathes out, attempting to catch his breath. “I don’t care,” he says with a sigh, smiling as he runs his fingers down the boy’s arm. “Besides, I like your apartment better than mine. It’s nice. It’s got personality. It’s _you_.”

“You’re so annoyingly cheesy,” Doyoung says, rolling his eyes as he lets his arm fall, back hitting the bed.

There’s a gasp from Jungwoo and then a hit on his chest. “Shut up. You were just telling me how much you love me. _Oh Jungwoo, I love you so much, I never stopped loving you_.” Doyoung would normally be mad, furious even, but the way Jungwoo imitates him is terribly spot on. Instead of grabbing the boy by his ear, he covers his face, letting out a string full of laughs.

“I hate you,” he says, sighing as he turns to face Jungwoo. “I hate you a lot.”

The boy smiles at him, sticking his tongue out quickly. If it’s possible for Doyoung to fall even more in love with Jungwoo, he thinks he just did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jungwoo’s car is _nice_ . Really nice, and probably more expensive than Doyoung’s apartment, he’s sure of it. The way the inside looks like it’s from one of those action movies, where they all somehow drive ridiculously expensive cars. There’s not even a speck of dust anywhere and Doyoung thinks about licking the dashboard because it’s _that_ clean. There’s leather seats and they’re _heated_ , and it feels absolutely amazing on his legs. There’s even the backup camera and Doyoung hears a soft bloop and watches as _Snoopy connected_ pops up on the little monitor.

“Your phone is named Snoopy?”

There’s a smile on Jungwoo’s lips as he nods. “Yeah.”

Doyoung whines, pressing his hands to his face because _fuck_ , Jungwoo’s _adorable_ . It’s times like these that Doyoung wonders why Jungwoo is even interested in him. The boy has an amazing job, has money, a nice car, a fancy apartment (at least, Doyoung imagines it to be one of those overly modern ones that has a room full of furniture to just _look_ at). Doyoung has more piercings than he can count on both hands, a job that barely pays his bills, questionable tattoos (some of which he doesn’t even remember getting), not to mention his fashion sense is one of an angsty teenage boy.  Jungwoo is just so _perfect_ and Doyoung is..rough around the edges and definitely not all the way put together.

He sucks in a breath, biting down on his lip as he shifts in his seat. He’s nervous, mostly because it’s going to be the first time that Jungwoo is going to hang out with Doyoung’s friends. Maybe if it was Taeil, it’d be different, mostly because Doyoung trusts Taeil not to embarrass him in front of his friends, but it’s Yuta, Sicheng, and Taeyong and when all of _them_ are together, something _always_ goes wrong. (Not to mention that the majority of Doyoung’s tattoos and piercings are a direct result of their hangouts.) Then, there’s the drugs and alcohol and--oh God, Jungwoo’s probably going to be _mortified_ to know how much Doyoung can drink. (His tolerance has _skyrocketed_ since college.)

“So, my friends... They’re a bit...” Doyoung pauses, eyes flicking over to Jungwoo. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even tilt his head to look at him (which is fine, because he’s driving, but Doyoung wants to know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling). “If you start to feel uncomfortable, just let me know. We can leave and go to a cafe instead, or hang out at my house, or maybe even yours--you know, if that’s okay--”

Jungwoo laughs, finger reaching out from the stick to poke Doyoung’s leg. “Doyoung, breathe. It’s okay. I’m sure they’re fine.” Doyoung whines, fingers curling against his thighs. They’re fine, but they’re not _Jungwoo_ fine. “Besides, they’re your good friends, right? I should get to know them.”

‘Good friends’ wasn’t exactly the label Doyoung would use. Sure, he spent the majority of his free time texting the pair, along with Taeyong, but he was _really_ bad at texting back. Their hangouts always were fun. Kind of. Most of the time it ended with one of them passed out from either too much alcohol or a nasty combination of pills that Yuta bought in a sketchy alleyway next to the Waffle House. Doyoung _guesses_ he could call them his ‘good friends.’

There’s a pumpkin outside the door and Doyoung tilts his head at it. The carving is done _really_ well. There’s even layers to it and Jungwoo points his finger to the festive pumpkin. “Miku.” Doyoung blinks, honestly surprised at the fact that Jungwoo knows the happy girl with the same colored hair as Taeyong. Jungwoo shrugs, lips pursing into a gentle pout when he sees the look Doyoung is giving him. “I do know _some_ things about anime.”

Doyoung sputters out a laugh, hand coming up to cover at his mouth. It’s not exactly what he would call knowing _something_ about anime, because, if he’s getting technical, Miku is a _singer_ (just an animated one). Doyoung feels his expression droop when he’s reminded about how much Yuta likes Miku. There’s figurines of her everywhere, and even that body pillow that Doyoung’s sure he jerks off to every night. (Doyoung _prays_ that it’s not sitting out on the couch like it is sometimes.)

When the door opens, it’s awkward, plain and simple. Sicheng is staring at him, one hand still holding onto the doorknob. He’s got this weird, fuzzy, headband on that has ears that honestly could be any animal. Then he’s wearing-- _lingerie?_ It’s a tank top sort of thing that’s sheer in the front and hangs almost like a dress, though, it only goes down to the very top of his thighs.

“What _are_ you?”

Sicheng tilts his head, fingers pointing to his headband. “Mouse.”

Doyoung waits until he disappears from the doorway, somewhere off to the left, before looking at Jungwoo. They’ve both got the same face and it only takes a second before they both are trying to hide their laughs.

Yuta’s apartment is better than Doyoung’s. It’s bigger, has a full kitchen island and one of those fridges with a pull out freezer, and more updated with fancy appliances. Where there would be dark decor and punk band posters in Doyoung’s apartment are all kinds of anime figurines and filled walls with the same content. Then, there’s the nice part of actually having a _bedroom_ , unlike Doyoung, who lives in a studio.

 _Speak of the devil_ , Doyoung thinks as the boy pops up from behind the kitchen counter. Not that Doyoung _actually_ remembers what Yuta said he was going to be for Halloween, but he’s pretty sure he _didn’t_ say a cat (because  that’s what Doyoung thinks he is). There’s ears on his head, small ones that could almost be the same as Sicheng’s, a collar around his neck (again, close to Sicheng’s, only this one has a bell on it), and whiskers drawn on his cheeks.

“Oh, hey!” There’s a certain look Yuta gives Doyoung, one that he knows way too well. One that comes with some smartass remark and Doyoung _knows_ what it’s going to be about. “See you brought your boyfriend.”

Doyoung knows Yuta wants a reaction, wants Doyoung to yell at him or throw something or call him a name, but instead, Doyoung smiles, hand wrapping around Jungwoo’s side. “Yeah, I did.”

“Thank _God_ , you finally admit it,” Sicheng says as he walks past, arms full of DVD’s.

Jungwoo peers at him, tilting his head ever so slightly so Doyoung can see the blush spread over both of his cheeks. Then, Doyoung’s _own_ cheeks start to turn pink, because Jungwoo is just so fucking cute when he blushes.

“Anyways, Doyoung, you look great as usual.” Yuta nods, hand stretching out as he points at him. “The bunny outfit really does suit you.”

Oh, Doyoung _knows_ it does. He’s got black stockings on (ones that he’s ripped holes in, of course, because everything’s better with holes), a velvet bodysuit that is _perfectly_ tight on him (even Jungwoo had noted how he can see Doyoung’s nipple piercings through it, it’s _that_ tight), a nice black collar that was made of lace, and perfectly sized bunny ears on top of his dark black hair. Then, the cute white pom pom tail, of course.

“What are you, uh...” Yuta bites his lip, head tilting.

“Jungwoo,” the boy next to Doyoung says with a smile. “And I’m Doyoung! Can’t you tell?” He turns around to show off the very special jean jacket, the one with the fangs and blood. He’s also managed to fit into Doyoung’s leather pants, which look _fantastic_ on him, Doyoung must note _._

“Clever,” Yuta says with a nod. “Well, Taeyong isn’t coming, so we can start if you guys are ready.”

“Why isn’t he coming?” Doyoung says with a pout, watching the way Yuta plops down onto the couch, practically on Sicheng whos busy fast forwarding through the previews of the first movie.

“I asked him the same question, and all he texted me was ‘ _boy_.’ Haven’t heard from him since.”

“Do you guys want alcohol?” Sicheng asks, fingers scratching at his cheek. “Doyoung, I can make you that special drink you like.”

With a quick nod, Doyoung smiles, fingers gently poking at Jungwoo. The boy understands what Doyoung’s asking and his lips quickly part before pressing together again, a small nod following. “You can make two. But uh, make one a little _less_ destructive than last time.”

The situation’s not as bad as he thought it would be. Sicheng and Yuta are well behaved, quiet as their eyes are glued to the TV. Yuta’s practically hiding behind Sicheng, but Jungwoo is doing the same with Doyoung. They’re all getting along, though. Jungwoo sparks up a conversation with Sicheng about how they both hate bananas, which leads Jungwoo into talking about his one friend that’s scared of fruits. ( _Odd_.) And, even though he’s still a little tense, hand gripping Doyoung’s most of the time, he’s not as stiff as he was when they first sat down.

Jungwoo wanders to the bathroom with the help of Sicheng. Doyoung lets out a sigh, leaning his head all the way back, eyes up at the ceiling. It’s going a lot better than he thought, and he’s thought a _lot_ about what could go wrong.

“You love him.” Yuta says quickly, fingers poking at Doyoung’s chest.

Doyoung nearly chokes on his spit, head tilting down quickly and eyes narrowing at Yuta. “What?”

“Oh my god,” he pauses, eyes wide. “Don’t move.” And Doyoung is actually frightened because what the fuck, there must be a bug on him or something. Like a spider or even _worse_ , one of those stupid long centipedes that like stare at him from the wall across from his bed at night. There’s fingers on his cheek and Yuta pulls away with a gasp, holding his hand. “Oh, my God. You really _do_ love him.”

“What are you talking about?” Doyoung growls, puffing his cheeks out.

“Glitter,” Yuta says quietly. “Doyoung, you’re wearing fucking _glitter_ on your face.” Yuta’s on his feet before Doyoung can respond, grabbing onto Sicheng’s arms, shaking him quickly. The other’s eyes widen and he looks like he’s going to cry as Yuta continues to shake him. “We lost him! Sicheng we lost our Doie! He’s got glitter all over him!”

Doyoung’s hand comes to Yuta’s face, hard. “Shut up!” he yells, a little too loud. “And do _not_ call me that! You know I-”

“Doie,” Jungwoo says with a gentle laugh and all three of them look over to him. Doyoung thinks that he might just melt into the couch. “That’s cute.” Now he really wants to disappear. Jungwoo is _not_ supposed to find it cute, because then he’s going to have to start _liking_ it. Doyoung whines, biting down on his lips, parting them slowly, ready to dismiss the nickname as a joke when he hears the soft ringing of Jungwoo’s phone.

“Oh,” the boy says quietly, fingers pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Doyoung waits until he hears the soft click of the front door before he _pounces_ . Yuta screams as he’s pushed to the ground and Doyoung pinches his nose, glaring at him from above. “Just admit you love him,” he yells, it’s not even really a yell because of how nasally Yuta’s voice is from Doyoung holding onto his nose, and he struggles to try and push Doyoung off him. “There’s nothing wrong with being in love!” There’s a pause and Yuta tilts his head, “Sicheng are you going to _help_ me or what?”

Sicheng shrugs as Doyoung looks up to him. He’s seated on the couch, red cup tilted back as he drinks rather quickly. It’s his third cup and the quietness of the boy means he’s definitely drunk. And Sicheng doesn’t do _anything_ when he’s drunk.

“I have to go.”

Doyoung stops practically choking Yuta at the sound of Jungwoo’s soft voice. There’s sadness in his eyes and his hand runs through his hair a few times. Slipping off Yuta, who whispers a ‘ _thank god_ ,’ Doyoung walks over to him, following the boy as he walks towards the front door. “Is everything okay?” It’s probably Jaehyun _again_ , but the look on Jungwoo’s face makes him think it’s more serious than that.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, fingers reaching out to brush against Doyoung’s. “The lady that normally does overnights is sick and there’s no one else, so...” His voice trails off. There’s a deep breath and then a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t--” Doyoung frowns, biting down on his lip gently before hooking his finger around Jungwoo’s. Now Doyoung has never, ever, thought that Jungwoo was a liar, not once in his entire time of knowing him. The boy has always been rather blunt and straightforward when it came to things, but it’s his first time hanging out with Doyoung’s friends, and Jungwoo _did_ walk in as he was trying to choke Yuta on the floor. “It’s not because of them, right? I mean, we can leave and just go to your place or mine like we talked about? I’m sorry if they--”

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo says with a quiet laugh. “It’s not, I promise.” Then he leans forward, pressing their lips together. “Maybe if you’re still up when I get off, we could...” he pauses, laughing against his lips. “You look really hot in the bunny costume, and I’ve kind of been staring at your crotch all night.”

A groan comes out of his mouth, because, _fuck,_ did that sound nice. “Yeah,” he says with a laugh, slightly embarrassed at the rather loud noise that he just emitted. “That sounds good.”

“Leave the door unlocked?”

Doyoung nods as Jungwoo leans down to kiss him again. His fingers wiggle at him before he gives a small wave to both Sicheng and Yuta who Doyoung is certain have been staring at them the whole time. Even as he plops down next to them on the couch, their eyes are still on him, faces blank and mouths shut.

“What now?” he mutters, hand running through his hair with a sigh. He really didn’t want Jungwoo to go. He already misses him and his bubblegum scent. With another sigh, Doyoung tilts his head, looking at the _still_ staring duo. “Please stop looking at me like that.” Then he finally understands what they want from him. Doyoung rolls his eyes, hand grabbing his full cup on the table because he didn’t want to look like an alcoholic in front of Jungwoo. One, two, three, big sips and it’s all gone. (Doyoung has a big mouth so it never takes long.) The cup slams on the table before Doyoung turns to look at them. “I love him, alright? Sickly, madly in love.”

Sicheng smiles and he gently taps his hands together, making the smallest claps he’s ever seen. Then Yuta begins to copy him, hands on top of Sicheng’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Haechan has a lot of friends. A lot of _annoying_ high school friends that come and make too much noise in the store. They’ve been hitting each other with that stupid diamond sword from Minecraft for the last twenty minutes and they’re _still_ laughing about it. Doyoung sighs, turning his attention to Taeyong instead. The boy is folding the shirts again. The same ones he’s folded four times already today.

Their store looks better. At least, better than it normally does. November is in it’s last week and all the Christmas stuff is already up (a personal record for Doyoung). Though, one could say he’s been taking his job a little more seriously lately. Part of it’s because he’s been in a better mood. There hasn’t been a day he doesn’t walk in without a smile on his face, and he’s gone a whole three days without yelling at anyone (he knows because Sicheng’s been keeping count on the whiteboard in Doyoung’s office).

Doyoung is still _Doyoung_ , though. He hasn’t thrown out his grungy style or taken out any of his piercings. He’s just _happier_ . Genuinely happier. Jungwoo’s often at his house; every day after work, in fact (except on nights that Doyoung closes). Then they meet at the mall and sit and eat McDonalds in Doyoung’s car. (He really wants to sit in Jungwoo’s nice heated seats but he doesn’t trust himself not to spill sauce all over them.) They kiss, they hold hands, they hug, they cuddle, they text _all_ day long. Doyoung is madly, deeply, completely, in love with Jungwoo, and it’s completely okay that he’s in love.

“ _Pst._ ” Doyoung tilts his head, eyes looking over at Taeyong, who’s currently hiding under one of the circle clothing racks, only his head peeking out from the shirts. “Your boyfriend is here.”

Jungwoo is staring at him from the other side of the counter. Doyoung smiles, biting down on his lip as he lets out a small laugh. “Hey. Are you off today?”

The boy shakes his head. His arm lifts up, revealing the plastic bag his hand is holding. “Lunch break.”

“Go ahead.” There’s a hand on his back and Yuta is smiling at him. “I’ll cover you.” Doyoung smiles. He’s tempted to give the boy a hug but that won’t go well, Doyoung tried it once and he’s never done it again. (it ended up with Yuta not letting go for almost ten minutes and the whole time he whispered weird animal facts to him.) Yuta pushes him out from behind the counter. “Hurry, or else I’ll change my mind.”

There’s lettuce on Doyoung’s fork instead of the normal greasy fast food that he usually eats way too fast for lunch. It’s not his favorite thing in the world, but Jungwoo muttered something about wanting to eat better, and so, naturally, Doyoung agreed to help too. The salad isn’t half bad, but it’s also not his spicy chicken sandwich and fries that he religiously has every day.

“I’m taking my midwife test tomorrow.”

Doyoung smiles. Jungwoo has been working hard, studying for hours, body slumped against Doyoung’s couch, empty coffee cups around him and lollipop wrappers as bookmarks in his textbook. The thing is, Jungwoo is _smart_ , like really fucking smart, he makes it seem _easy_. He’s only been learning for a little over a month but he’s already taking the final test for it.  

Medical subjects have never interested Doyong. Just the thought of blood and surgery and needles-- _ugh_ , it makes him shiver and the room starts spinning. And Doyoung definitely _doesn’t_ do babies, not at all, not in the _slightest bit_ . So the two combined, babies and surgery, is a difficult thing the handle. He’s done his best though, helping Jungwoo study. He’s made nearly a hundred flashcards for all the terms and even ones with fake scenarios that Jungwoo has to make a plan for. Doyoung could practically take the test _himself_ with how much he’s learned by extension.

“Ice cream after?”

Jungwoo nods, humming around his fork as his eyes curl downwards. “Please.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“When will you know?”

Jungwoo hums against Doyoung’s lips, gasping as he falls back on the bed. “End of the week.” It’s Wednesday. “Possibly--” he pauses, arching his back as Doyoung runs his hands up his chest. “Sooner.”

They didn’t get ice cream. Doyoung got an arm full of Jungwoo and lips pressed against his the moment the boy opened the door. It’s really okay though. The weather is far too cold for ice cream, and Doyoung doesn’t like the cold (neither does Jungwoo, so it really works out). Besides, having Jungwoo under him, on his bed, already panting and skin already flushed, was a lot better anyways.

“I’m sure you did great.” Doyoung unhooks Jungwoo’s belt, hands quickly popping the button open and the zipper goes down just as fast. “ _You’re_ great.”

Jungwoo laughs, giggles to be more specific. His hips lift up so Doyoung can pull his pants off, dragging his underwear along with it. It’s desperate and Jungwoo’s already needy. It’s been a while, almost three weeks, since the last time they’ve had sex (which is a long time for them--at least, it was in college). Jungwoo’s been so busy with studying and work, and honestly, Doyoung’s just wanted to spend time with the boy. Of course, he’d never deny sex; they just haven’t pursued it (which Doyoung thinks is fine, because how desperate Jungwoo is right now makes it even _better_ ).

There’s two fingers in Jungwoo by the time Doyoung kicks his pants off, then a third when he finally settles back between Jungwoo’s legs, licking his lips as he watches his toes curl into his sheets. “Oh god,” Jungwoo moans out, biting down on his lip. Doyoung lets out a soft laugh because Jungwoo’s already grinding down on his fingers, his hand around his cock.

The taller one ends up on top, hips rising and falling, skillfully riding Doyoung, legs spread and hands on Doyoung’s chest, and Jungwoo looks absolutely fucking _ethereal_ . His skin is bright red all the way down to his chest, bangs stuck to his forehead, and he’s even got his tongue out as he rolls his hips. Jungwoo’s thighs are shaking and Doyoung reaches out, squeezing both of them. Jungwoo looks like he’s about to cum, _feels_ like he’s about to cum, and--

There’s a familiar ringing coming from the bag on the floor. Jungwoo whines, hips slowing down. His eyes open, teeth biting down on his lip as he looks down at Doyoung. “I’m not answering it,” he says quietly. The ringing stops and Jungwoo lifts his hips up, ready to push them down when the ringing starts again.

“Go,” Doyoung says with a breathy laugh, patting his leg. “It could be important.”

Jungwoo whines, sighing loudly. He slips off of him and Doyoung groans at the lack of warmth on him. Turning on his side, Doyoung presses his cheek against the pillow, watching Jungwoo dig through his bag for his phone.

“Hello?” His voice is quiet and he looks at Doyoung, mouthing an _I’m sorry,_ along with the biggest pout.

Doyoung shakes his head, laughing as he reaches out, hand wrapping around Jungwoo’s cock. The other sucks in a breath and Doyoung can’t help but smile. His hand moves slowly, just enough to make Jungwoo bite down on his lip, legs spreading slightly. “Wait,” he says, blinking quickly. “Slow down. Where are you?” The serious tone in Jungwoo’s voice makes Doyoung’s hand move away from him. He pushes himself up, legs sliding to hang off the bed. “Yeah, yeah.” Jungwoo laughs, hand running through his hair. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Who--” Doyoung asks slowly when Jungwoo pulls the phone away from his ear, hanging up before tossing his phone on the bed.

“Johnny’s in labor,” Jungwoo says. His teeth are biting down on his lip and Doyoung can tell he’s trying to hold back a smile. It’s like he’s waiting for something (and Doyoung suspects he knows exactly what it is).

“I’ll come with.”

The squeal and the hug makes his suspicions true. “I can’t believe it! I’m going to see a birth for real. Oh, this is so great. I’m so excited!” Jungwoo’s cupping his cheeks and then he’s kissing him.

In correlation with Doyoung’s hatred for medical topics, he also hates the hospital. His tolerance has gotten better (kind of). He’s gotten used to the smell dof chemicals and hand sanitizer odon  Jungwoo when he walks into his apartment after work, but he still hates hospitals--and, more importantly, _babies_ . Which he’s going to be experiencing _both_ , simultaneously, and all he hopes is that he _doesn’t_ pass out (because that’d be _really_ embarrassing). 

There’s nothing happening in the room when they walk in. Johnny is curled up on one side and he kind of looks like he’s sleeping, but his brows are creased a little too deep for him to be sleeping. Not to mention the hand that he’s gripping, and the person that hand belongs to does _not_ look like he’s enjoying it being held. Jaehyun’s face is contorted in pain and he can see the tears on his cheeks from the doorway.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says quietly. “Oh, Doyoung. I didn’t expect you to be here.” Doyoung can tell that Jaehyun’s in pain from the way his voice shakes, but he’s trying his best to make it seem like he’s having his hand practically squeezed to death.

 _Right._ He probably should have asked if he could come, or had Jungwoo ask for him. Birth is kind of a special thing (at least that’s what he’s always heard). Parents are rather picky with who’s in the room during the whole process. “Is it okay?” Jungwoo asks for Doyoung, hand squeezing his gently.

“Sure,” Jaehyun says with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again, by the way.”

Johnny’s gets one of those shots that make the pain go away (most of it, anyway). It’s a long word, and Doyoung doesn’t really feel like trying to say it, so he opts for just calling it the _magical pain medicine_. Jungwoo and Jaehyun talk using a bunch of fancy medical terms that Doyoung doesn’t understand, so instead, he sits in the chair in the corner, fingers tapping against his thighs.

Jaehyun finally gets released from his husband’s death grip about forty five minutes later. It’s only because a nurse comes in and adjusts some kind of band wrapped around his stomach and asks Johnny a bunch of questions.

“Were you guys--” Jaehyun tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly before he blinks. “It’s nice of you to think of bringing Doyoung. If Johnny wasn’t drugged out of his mind right now, he’d definitely be really happy you’re here. But, um--”

“We’re dating.”

It’s blunt and simple. It’s the question that Jaehyun wanted to ask and it’s the answer that Jungwoo gives with a smile. Jaehyun’s face lights up and it makes Doyoung’s cheeks turn a gentle pink.

“That’s…” Jaehyun pauses before he gives a smile so big that his eyes close and his dimples are as deep as the ocean. “I’m really happy for you guys. Jungwoo used to talk about you.” Doyoung watches as Jungwoo tilts his head down, toes bumping into the chair leg. “When we started going to our appointments, he asked if we had talked to you.” Jaehyun smiles, fingers ruffling his bangs gently. “I always had a feeling you two would get back together.”

If it weren’t for their current situation, Doyoung would whine and ask Jungwoo why he never told him this. He had no idea the boy even thought about him once since college. Doyoung figured he had no reason to, but apparently, there was. He decides to leave the questioning for later and simply allows his heart to flutter at the thought that Jungwoo had been thinking about him back then.

It takes about ten minutes for the whole thing to happen, maybe fifteen. Doyoung doesn’t even know, because the whole time, he hid in the corner, hands over his face. Dramatic, and probably a little concerning how dramatic he’s actually being,, but he couldn’t help it. Jungwoo, on the other hand,  was much more involved. Doyoung couldn’t see anything, but he could hear the soothing voice that can only come from Jungwoo. (Though, it barely could be heard over Johnny’s _screaming_ . He even gave _Haechan_ a run for his money on who can be the loudest. Though, Johnny’s situation is a little more understanding, while Haechan just seems to be loud because he _can_.)

By the time he hears crying, not from Johnny or Jaehyun this time, Doyoung feels like _he’s_ just given birth. His forehead is sweaty and he’s pretty sure he’s stuck to the chair leather from his thighs sweating, too. Then, there’s the way his knees are knocking into each other because his legs are shaking so much. The room is spinning and _yeah_ , Doyoung _really_ hates hospitals.

Jungwoo is the one to tap on his shoulder. His face is beaming and there’s even little tears at the corners of his eyes. “Come look,” he whispers softly. Doyoung really, really doesn’t want to, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a _little_ interested in what his two friends created.

Doyoung doesn’t exactly know what babies are supposed to look like right after they come out. They’re really wrinkly and there’s still a little blood on one and they just look _odd_ with the way their heads are shaped, all pointy and abnormal looking. “They’re adorable,” Jungwoo says with a soft squeal. “I’m a little jealous.”

Doyoung nearly chokes on his spit when Jungwoo looks at him. His eyes are big, and if there could be hearts in them, there would be. Instead of responding with words, Doyoung simply pats the boy on his back. Yeah, _no_ . That wasn’t happening. No way in hell. But Doyoung can already hear Jungwoo’s whiny voice in his head: _It’s not like_ you’d _be pregnant_ . Still, Doyoung thinks, the answer is a hard _no._

“Wait,” Johnny says quietly. He’s got his head leaned back against the pillows that were shoved behind him earlier. His forehead is still shining and his bangs are _everywhere_ . There’s dark circles under his eyes and blood on his lips from how hard he’s bitten down. Doyoung thinks he doesn’t really have any reason to judge his appearance because honestly, he didn’t look any better, and Johnny just gave birth to _twins_. “Are you guys together?” Right, Johnny was completely out of it during the whole conversation with Jaehyun.

Jungwoo’s still looking at him. There’s a blush on his cheeks and his lips are curled into a bright smile. Doyoung lets himself smile back, nodding slowly as he bites down on his lip. “Yeah,” he says, breathing out with a laugh. “We are.”

“Isn’t that the best?” Jaehyun says, crouching down next to the bed. Johnny nods, smile pulling his lips up quickly.

“You owe me my hundred dollars now.” Both Jungwoo and Doyoung blink at each other. Johnny lets out a laugh at them. “We made a bet. As soon as we got in the car after our first ultrasound appointment, when Jungwoo asked about you, we bet if you two would get back together or not.” Johnny smiles, fingers adjusting one of the babies’ little hats that is way too big. “I won.”

For some odd reason, that warms Doyoung’s heart, a little too much. It seems to do the same to Jungwoo. The boy is biting his lip, failing at holding back the biggest smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doyoung is _excited_ , very excited, overly excited to see Jungwoo. He can hardly even wait until the door closes before he grabs his hands, tugging him into the apartment more.

“I have news.” They both say it at the same time, then. They both laugh, eyes lighting up.

“You first,” Doyoung says, hands wiggling Jungwoo’s.

“I passed the test,” he breathes out, bright smile on his face. “Doyoung, I _passed_!”

It’s not a surprise by any means. Doyoung could have passed it with how hard Jungwoo studied. Nonetheless, he’s happy, arms wrapping around Jungwoo and pulling him into a strong hug. “I knew you would!”

Their lips meet and Jungwoo sighs against his. It’s long, and Doyoung’s hands end up on Jungwoo’s waist by the time they pull away from each other. “Okay, now what do you have to tell me?” Jungwoo says quietly, pressing their foreheads together.

Doyoung has been waiting all day to tell him. He should have told him yesterday when he got the call but for once, Doyoung wanted to tell Jungwoo in person. It’s not like him. Doyoung is a very just-do-it-over text kind of person. (Though, he’s also a dark hearted boy who hates pink and sparkles, but lately, those haven’t been bothering him as much.)

“I got promoted.”

Jungwoo’s face lights up, lights up so fucking bright that it hurts from how he’s practically shining on him. “Oh my god, _Doyoung!_ ” His name is said in a squeal. There’s another kiss, hands on his cheeks and Jungwoo is practically lifting him off the floor. He breathes out, rubbing his nose against Doyoung’s when their lips part. “So, what does this mean? What are you now?”

“Well, I have a lot of training to do, but I’m going to be the new regional manager. Our current one is being transferred.” For some reason, he’s out of breath. Maybe it’s the excitement running through his veins, or the kiss that they just shared, or something else. Doyoung doesn’t actually care.

Taeil had called him yesterday as he was leaving work. As usual, Doyoung let out a string of curses, because a call from Taeil never was a good thing, but Doyoung was pleasantly surprised (read: ecstatic to the point of him giggling in the bathroom after) to hear the news.

“Have you told the others yet?” Jungwoo’s eyes are sparkling. “Do you think they’ll take it well?”

It’s rather cute for Jungwoo to think about his employees. They haven’t hung out much,  not with Jungwoo included, anyway, but that’s mostly because they can’t stand to see Doyoung _soft._ ( _Ew, I don’t want to see you kissing your boyfriend. I bet you guys get all giggly and flustered and--just no.)_ Doyoung can’t say that he’s mad about that. He’d rather spend time with Jungwoo alone, anyway. “No,” he breathes out with a smile. “I wanted to tell you first.”

His employees would be happy, of course. It’s not like Doyoung’s leaving right away. It’ll be a good two or three months before he’s officially out of the store, which is actually really _fucking_ sad. No more smiling Sicheng to great him in the morning, or a wide-eyed Taeyong with a cup carrier full of coffees; no more fawning over the new earrings that come in with Yuta, and as much as Doyoung hates to admit it, he’d actually miss Haechan’s annoying voice. That store meant _everything_ to Doyoung. It was where he wandered into, half drunk, with his resume, (which was crumpled and he had spilled sauce on it) and handed it to Taeil. Then, not even before he could leave the store, the other had grabbed his arm, rings poking into his skin and the way the light hit the spikes on his choker, hurt his eyes.

But this is what Doyoung’s wanted, wanted for a while now. Even though it’s pretty terrifying, the thought of actually having to do important things (other than stocking and counting money), he’s excited. It opens up so many opportunities for him. Hopefully soon, he won’t have to hear about how he should be using his degree again.

“Doyoung, I could not be more proud of you.” Jungwoo’s voice is soft as his fingers run through his hair. “I know you’ve been working hard lately. You really deserve this.”

He has been working hard, really fucking hard, and he _did_ deserve this. He actually did. He can admit it. Normally, he would be boasting about how he’s next in line for the spot, but his words were always shut down by his own thoughts, knowing that he’s got too much to work on and it’s more likely that Yuta would be moved up since he was doing half of Doyoung’s work, anyway. Not this time, though. Doyoung had been making sure displays were always neat, that promotions and sales were up _before_ the deadline. He even approved Taeyong to take the three day vacation that he had requested months ago, which Doyoung had originally laughed in his face and said absolutely not, since that meant Doyoung would have to work _extra_ hard. It was all because of one reason.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Doyoung feels the way his stomach flutters, feels his heart begin to swell and his cheeks turn redder than the belt wrapped around his waist.

Jungwoo clicks his tongue, shaking his head quickly. “Doyoung, I didn’t-”

“You _did_ .” It comes out firmer than he wanted, but he’s serious. “Jungwoo, you’ve made me so happy.” He knows he sounds like a sappy idiot and _maybe_ he’s on the verge of tears, but honestly, Doyoung doesn’t _care_ . “I know it sounds stupid but--” Doyoung lets out a soft laugh. “Seriously, this whole thing; meeting you again, being with you, being in _love_ with you, has helped me so much.”

The other seems to be at a loss for words. (Which is honestly okay because Doyoung doesn’t think he can handle any of the cutesy things that Jungwoo might say.) They share a kiss. Another one. One more, before Jungwoo finally responds. “You know,” he says softly against Doyoung’s lips. “I don’t think I ever fell out of love with you, either.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> { [twitter](https://twitter.com/buttercupwoo) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/wooberry)}


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